


Reaching Out

by ShonnaRose



Series: Heartfelt Bonds [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Hollows (Bleach), Hurt/Comfort, Karakura General Hospital, Karakura High School, Karakura Town, Multi, Naruki City, Quincies, Seireitei, Some Canon, The Soul Society, The Urahara Shop, soul reapers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 171,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShonnaRose/pseuds/ShonnaRose
Summary: Survive high school. That was all Tamiko Kimura desired: to keep her head down and avoid the attention of her classmates. Or so she had thought. When a Hollow kills her older sister, Tamiko faces a vast, empty world. In order not to be all alone in it, she resolves to create lasting bonds with the people around her. Even if that means putting her own life at risk.
Series: Heartfelt Bonds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738225
Comments: 20
Kudos: 38





	1. Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo. I am merely borrowing his creation for my own amusement.
> 
> Hello! This has been several months in the making, and I am still working through everything I want to do. This series will encompass the entirety of the Bleach canon, so it will be going on for a while. Chapters are being updated on a weekly basis, assuming I have everything finished. Just know that I'm devoting as much of my free time on this as possible.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monsters lurk within the shadows of Karakura Town. And one has their eyes on Tamiko Kimura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

Souls. The town was filled with them going about their daily lives, unaware that they were being watched. None could interest it. Only one soul would suffice in satiating its never-ending hunger. They lumbered through the streets, sniffing, searching for the sweet aroma.

The scent of an exceptionally tasty soul caught their attention. All around, the air was thick with it. No, it wasn’t the right soul. While enticing, it was to be ignored. An ear-splitting howl erupted from deep within their throat. Frustration. Their search must continue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Again. She shot up from her sleep for the third night in a row. The pounding of her heart did nothing to drown out the howl that pierced the air. She covered her ears, clenched her eyes, and screamed, “M-Machiko!”

The door swung open, and a young woman ran in. “Oh, Tamiko,” she soothed, sitting beside her on the bed. Tamiko fell into her open arms and sobbed. “Did you hear it again? The monster?”

“Uh, huh,” Tamiko answered, body trembling like a leaf in the wind. “Why, Machiko? Why do I keep hearing it?”

Tamiko Kimura could recall the moment she first heard the monster’s howl. Nearly nine years old and laying in a hospital bed. It shrieked. An inhuman sound that shook the very air around her.

A nightmare, her mother said then and every time the subject was broached. The only person who believed her was...

Machiko rubbed her back. She said softly, “That’s all there is to it. Not everyone can hear them, but you can, Tamiko.”

“Great, I feel so special,” Tamiko grumbled, and her sister responded with a chuckle.

The howl came again, and their arms tightened around each other.

“It can’t hurt you,” Machiko whispered. “I promise. You’ll be alright.”

Comforted by her words, Tamiko nodded. She closed her eyes. When no more howls could be heard, she drifted back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning arrived unceremoniously, the sun rising as it always had. In the kitchen, steam wafted from the rice cooker. An egg sizzled and popped, and two pieces of toast jumped from the toaster. Tamiko snagged one.

She took a bite and tossed her backpack on the table. The key chain swung, bouncing against the front pocket. A red panda, given to her on the first day of high school by Machiko. It went with Tamiko everywhere she went.

“Good morning, Machiko!” Tamiko beamed. “Why didn’t you wake me? I could have helped.”

“You know that I don’t mind,” Machiko said, not looking up from her work. She grinned. “And the last time you tried to cook, you nearly burned the apartment down.”

“Hey, it was the stove’s fault!” Tamiko exclaimed, pointing at said appliance. “I swear, it came to life and started that fire all by itself! Everything else was edible, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, you did well, considering it wasn’t instant ramen,” Machiko conceded, placing the egg beside a pile of fresh green cabbage. “Now would you please set the table? Everything is ready.”

Snorting with laughter, Tamiko put the toast on her plate and began setting the table. Machiko’s plate and bowl were placed first followed by her own, the same way each morning for the last seven months.

Due to an incident, Tamiko transferred to a junior high in Karakura Town in the middle of the school year. One good thing about it was that she got to live with her sister again after nearly three years.

Their life together was enjoyable. Machiko now attended university, commuting back and forth, while Tamiko attended Karakura High. Chores were split between them, so the apartment stayed spotless. Breakfast and dinner were always eaten together in a respectful silence, having been instilled upon them that mealtime was for eating and not talking.

However, the spirits didn’t know that.

“Man, I miss eating!” one such spirit lamented, voice high pitched but unmistakably male. “It looks so good! Oh, to sit down and have a proper meal again!”

Tamiko looked up, only able to see a faint shimmer of the spirit fluttering around the table. She frowned, placing a clump of rice into her mouth.

It wasn’t until the dishes were cleared that Machiko acknowledged the spirit, looking directly at him. “You know that it’s rude to come into people’s houses, correct?”

“W-wait. You both can see me?” the spirit stuttered.

“My sister can,” Tamiko said, chuckling, “but can I hear you! You’re just a disembodied voice to me! Anyway, sorry that you can’t eat anymore. Otherwise, I’d fix you something.”

“And risk burning the house down?”

“You heard that?” Machiko asked. She shook her head as Tamiko’s chuckles grew into howls. “Just how long have you been watching us?”

“Er...” he mumbled, shifting around. “H-hey, it’s not like I watched the two of you get dressed or something!”

Tamiko hugged her middle, eyes watering and face flushing up. “Which means you totally did!”

Machiko’s eyes grew dark. She glared at the spirit, and he rocketed away, disappearing through a wall. With a sigh, she rose to clear the table. As she stacked the dishes, she mumbled, “He was the worst kind of spirit. One that thinks he can get away with whatever he wants just because no one can see them.”

While cleaning, Tamiko wondered why she couldn’t see spirits like Machiko could. Ever since they were kids, Machiko could see them vividly, while Tamiko couldn’t even hear them until she was nine--about the same time she first heard the monster. It was amusing to hear random voices coming from nowhere, but she wished she could see spirits too.

Outside, the spring air was cool and pleasant. Side by side, Tamiko and Machiko made their way through town. At an intersection, they parted ways. Machiko headed for her train bound for Bunkyo, Tokyo, while Tamiko continued to school.

Classroom 1-3 had a grand total of 29 students. When she arrived, most of them were scattered around the room chatting with friends. Tamiko headed straight to the back row. No one greeted her, nor did she greet anyone. She sank into the seat beside the wall and pulled a book out of her backpack.

Bright orange hair caught her eye. Ichigo Kurosaki strode into the room with Mizuiro Kojima at his heels. While Mizuiro stared at his phone, Ichigo paused to look around the room--the trademark scowl on his face. That scowl landed on her, and he raised his hand. Tamiko returned the gesture, face burning.

“Ichigooo!” a voice called out. Keigo Asano bounded over to him, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you gotta hear this new joke I thought of! It’s hilarious!”

A loud yawn answered him. Ichigo rubbed his head. “How do you have so much energy so early in the morning?” he grumbled. “Seriously, Keigo. Can’t you save it for lunch or somethin’?”

“Don’t be like that,” Keigo said, pouting. “Come on! It’s really funny!~”

“If it’ll shut you up.” Ichigo walked towards his seat.

Keigo’s grin returned as he followed. “What did the doctor say to the miniature horse?”

With a heavy sigh, Ichigo dropped his bag on the desk. “I don’t know. What?”

“You’re a little hoarse!” Keigo exclaimed, and he howled, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

The expression on Ichigo’s face didn’t change. There wasn’t so much as a twitch. He slid into the chair, shoving both hands into his pockets and stretching out his legs. “That joke was supposed to be funny?”

Again, Keigo pouted. “Come on, man. It was totally funny! Where’s your sense of humor?”

Tamiko smiled,watching Mizuiro hold out his hand to Keigo. “I told you that he wouldn’t laugh at it,” he said. “Looks like you owe me 500 yen, Keigo.”

“Aww, man,” Keigo dug around in his pockets until his wallet was pulled out.

After Mizuiro had been paid, Yasutora Sado--or Chad--appeared, towering over them. Keigo repeated his joke, but he didn’t appear to be listening. He lifted his head, eyes meeting Tamiko’s. His hand rose. Once more, she returned the gesture before ducking behind her book.

The bell chimed, signaling the start of homeroom. Tamiko placed her bookmark between the pages and slid the book back into her bag.

Lunchtime came, and Tamiko pulled out her usual bento of leftovers. All around her, everyone discussed where to have lunch, most arguing about either heading to the cafeteria or go off school grounds.

“Do you want to eat in the library again today, Ryo?” Michiru Ogawa asked her friend as they walked by Tamiko.

“Yes,” Ryo Kunieda said, not looking up from the book in her hand. “As soon as I finish my book. It’s due soon.”

“Good idea,” Michiru said, smiling. They disappeared into the hallway.

Tamiko sighed and opened her lunch.

When school ended for the day, Tamiko headed downstairs. She entered one of the clubs: Home Handicrafts, a sewing club. Only a handful of people appeared to be taking part in the hobby while the rest chatted, room buzzing with their conversations.

A beeline was made for the back row, where Tamiko pulled out her current project: a pencil case to replace her raggedy one from junior high. It looked like a patchwork since it was made of several different kinds of scrap material.

‘The Frankenstein’s monster of pencil cases,’ she thought, starting to work.

In and out. Her hands nimbly pushed the needle through the fabric, creating small, even stitches. Within a few seconds, two pieces were sewn together. She just started adding another piece when she glanced up. Her heart raced.

Across the room sat Uryu Ishida. He was facing her, an intense look in his eyes. Tamiko’s face burned under the unusual attention.

By the time she realized her hands were still working, it was too late. A sharp pain stabbed her finger. She winced and watched the blood well up on the tip; she shoved aside the project before any could drip on it. Tears blurred her vision as she winced again. For such a tiny wound, it sure stung.

A chair scraped, and feet tapped against the floor. “Here,” Uryu said, gently taking her hand and wrapping an adhesive bandage around the wound. “You should pay attention when handling needles like that. They’re sharp.”

“I-I know,” Tamiko stuttered, staring wide-eyed. “Er...normally, I-I don’t...” His brows furrowed together, and she looked down. “I mean... t-thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Uryu said, adjusting his glasses. He returned to his seat, and Tamiko studied the bandage on her finger.

The sun hung low on her way home. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of the bandage, wondering why Uryu had even bothered to help her. Did he want something in return, and why had he been watching in the first place?

A piercing howl shattered her thoughts. Tamiko froze, heart pounding and stomach twisting. She turned, vision filling with a massive form. Nothing about it could be distinguished other than its size. It merely looked like heat waves going in every direction.

Sweat trickled between her eyes. A step back, but the monster took a step as well. It shifted, and then, it was gone. No more shimmering waves. Even Tamiko’s heart slowed and stomach calmed.

“W-was that one of the monsters?” Tamiko breathed. People walked by, not disturbed by the monster that was just standing in the middle of the street.

A blurred spirit ran up beside Tamiko, form flitting around as if they were looking for something. Their search apparently failing, they jumped onto and hopped along the buildings’ roofs.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a spirit do that before,’ Tamiko thought as she watched them disappear in the distance. ‘Strange.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment Tamiko rushed through the door, she relayed the experience to Machiko. Her sister listened, frowning.

“Are you sure that’s what you saw?” she asked. “You saw the monster? What did it look like?”

“Well, it howled exactly like the monster I keep hearing,” Tamiko rushed on, “and it was huge! Nearly as big as our apartment! That has to be it!”

“Okay, okay. Settle down,” Machiko said calmly. “Why don’t we sit down? I think it’s time I explained something to you.”

Throughout the next hour, Tamiko learned all about the monster, or rather, monsters. “T-they devour people? But...why?”

“Hollows were once human,” Machiko explained, staring sadly at her hands. “If a spirit remains in this world for too long, they’ll become one. Anyone they devour also becomes a Hollow. As for why, it’s because they are desperately trying to fill the emptiness left behind by their missing hearts.”

“And they go after people with high amounts of--what did you call it? ‘Reiryoku?’”

Machiko nodded. “They can,” she said. “Reiryoku is also what allows you to hear spirits and Hollows. The more of it you have, the clearer you can see such beings.”

“So then you must have a lot of it,” Tamiko said, straightening. “Since you can see spirits. Does that mean...you can see Hollows too? Clearly?”

“Yes,” Machiko answered. “I have seen them throughout my life. They aren’t something that you should ever want to see, Tamiko.”

Silence hung sadly between them. Tamiko studied Machiko, whose dull eyes continued to stare at her hands.

“Do you know what you need?” Tamiko asked, smiling; Machiko glanced at her. “Some delicious curry! My treat!”

She leaped from the couch, but Machiko grabbed her by the backpack, pulling her down.

“What did we talk about this morning?” she inquired.

“Oh.” Tamiko giggled. “Well, I’ll at least start the rice and set the table!”

Later, as they washed and put away dishes, Tamiko asked, “How do you know so much about Hollows, anyway? And why didn’t you tell me about them sooner?”

No answer. Machiko placed a clean dish in the drainer, dried her hands, and ran them through her ponytail. Whatever the answers were, they stressed her out.

“Why don’t you go on and do your homework, Tamiko?” she asked, taking the dish Tamiko was drying. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“A-alright,” Tamiko stuttered, frowning. Slowly, she headed upstairs to do just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had to be after midnight. Darkness pervaded every corner of her bedroom without even a flicker of light. When the howling came again, Tamiko flew out of her bed and down the hallway, following the glowing light under Machiko’s door.

The lamp beside her bed illuminated a small section of the room. Machiko held her arms out, and Tamiko dove into them. She sobbed.

“Shhh, it’s alright, Tamiko,” Machiko said softly. “It cannot hurt you, remember? You’re perfectly safe.”

“B-but what about you?” Tamiko asked, voice breaking. “You have a lot of reiryoku, right? That means you aren’t safe.”

“Have you already forgotten?” Machiko hugged her tightly. “I have been able to see Hollows my entire life, and they haven’t hurt me yet. Neither of us will be devoured. I promise.”

Tamiko sniffed and hiccuped, returning the hug.

Machiko was the smartest person she knew, having been the top of her class and amazing at everything she did. She couldn’t possibly be wrong about something. Including monsters bent on devouring souls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At school, everything was normal. There were no talks of monsters. However, there was one noticeable difference: Mizuiro walked into the classroom alone. He and Ichigo were usually inseparable.

There was a frown on his face as he approached Keigo and Chad. “When I went to meet Ichigo at his house, there was a giant hole in the side of it,” he said. “Apparently, a truck crashed into it last night. Ichigo’s helping his dad with the clean up.”

“Whoa! A truck!? Like the kind used for delivering stuff!?” Keigo blurted. Mizuiro nodded, and Keigo flailed his arms. “Well, did anyone get hurt!? Come on! Don’t leave out the important details like Chad always does!”

“That’s the thing,” Mizuiro said, glancing up. “No one got hurt. It didn’t even wake them up, and the perpetrator just drove away. Kind of strange, isn’t it?”

“It is odd,” Chad agreed.

Tamiko’s heart skipped a beat as she fumbled around in her backpack for her notebook. It couldn’t have been that Hollow, could it? They were probably strong enough to wreck a house, but that would certainly wake the heaviest of sleepers.

Plus, didn’t Machiko say that Hollows only went after spirits or people with a lot of reiryoku? Did Ichigo or anyone in his family have any? Either way, the incident seemed strange.

The bell chimed. Feet squeaked and chairs screeched throughout the room. Miss Ochi, the homeroom and history teacher, walked in. At her heels was a petite girl with black hair and violet eyes. They stopped and faced the students.

“Good morning, class,” Miss Ochi said. She smiled and gestured to the girl. “We have a new student joining us today. Please, introduce yourself.”

“Hello, everyone,” the girl greeted with a polite smile and bow. “My name is Rukia Kuchiki, and I am happy to be part of your class. I hope that we can become good friends.”

Tamiko watched as Rukia took the empty seat beside Ichigo’s vacant one. ‘What a coincidence,’ she thought, looking down. ‘When I transferred to Mashiba Junior High, I was placed in a similar position.’

That was certainly a day Tamiko would never forget. One filled with heart pounding fear, standing before that sea of faces. All eyes bore into her followed by whispers, wondering how she came to be wrapped in those bandages. Mortified, she was directed to a seat next to an infamous delinquent, Ichigo Kurosaki.

Bright orange hair stuck up at every angle. Blazer not buttoned properly. Shirt not tucked in. And a scowl that faced her each time she so much glanced at him. He was the very definition of a punk.

At lunch, she made her escape to a secluded area just outside of the woods that surrounded the school. She took solace in how chilly the air was. Certainly that would keep everyone within the warm confines of the school.

She was wrong.

He--Ichigo Kurosaki--came, bearing two juice boxes, one of which was open and up to his mouth. With a casual, “Hey,” he leaned up against the wall beside her.

She didn’t respond. Tamiko stared at her lunch, muscles tightening and heart banging. Shoving a bite into her mouth, she watched Ichigo in the corner of her eye.

“They beat you up pretty good, huh?” he asked, voice slurred from the straw in his mouth.

She scrunched up into a tighter ball, the rice dry in her mouth. She swallowed, and it caught. No amount of swallowing could dislodge the clump; she pounded against her chest and coughed.

Ichigo crouched, inserting the straw into the other juice box. “Here. Drink.”

Without a second thought, Tamiko snatched it and took a long sip. The liquid flushed the rice, and her body deflated. She blinked, looking between the juice and Ichigo.

“S-sorry,” she whispered, trembling. “I shouldn’t have taken it.”

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo asked, rubbing the back of his head. “I offered it to you because you were choking. It’s not like I needed an extra juice or anything.”

“Right. Thank you.” She set the drink aside and picked up her chopsticks.

“No problem,” Kurosaki said. With a sip of his juice, he studied her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Huh?”

A finger appeared in front of her nose. “They beat you up pretty good, huh?” Ichigo repeated. “Your face is covered in bandages. There’s also one on your hand, and with the way you bowed earlier, you’ve got one wrapped around your stomach as well.”

Tamiko blinked, hand feeling the bandages under her uniform. Her face grew so hot that she swore she saw steam.

“So what happened? Don’t tell me you were in a street brawl?”

“N-no, nothing like that.” Tamiko pushed around a carrot. “C-classmates. They ganged up on me. In the park.”

“And you were the one kicked outta school?”

“Mother had me transferred. They had already been suspended for something else.” She stabbed the vegetable.

A grunt of understanding answered her. Ichigo stretched out one leg and rested a hand on his bent knee, sipping at his juice until he sucked it dry. Why was he sticking around? Didn’t he have friends to eat lunch with?

Tamiko was terrified to ask or even move.

“What a bunch of cowards,” Ichigo said, staring off into the distance. “To gang up on an innocent girl like that. They deserve more than a suspension.”

“H-how do you know that I’m innocent?” Tamiko asked. “For all you know, I could have done something to warrant the fight.”

Ichigo faced her, crossing his legs. Again he pointed his finger at her. “No,” he said. “I can tell you aren’t the type to start fights. You’re the type that allows someone like me to intrude on your lunch. You’re afraid of me. Afraid that I’ll beat ya up like those cowards did.”

The finger retreated into his fist. He thrusted it, coming within an inch of her face. Tamiko recoiled back, bento bouncing up and landing face down among the dirt and leaves between them.

A blank look appeared on Ichigo’s face. He stiffly looked down, eyes widening. “Aw, crap!” he yelled, hands going to his head. “I’m sorry! I was only kidding. I didn’t mean to make you drop your lunch. Really, I’m sorry.”

Tamiko blinked, watching him scramble to clean the food, all the while insistently mumbling apologies. This guy was a delinquent? Aside from his sloppy way of dressing and gruff attitude, he wasn’t all that scary.

But now the lunch she and Machiko had worked so hard to prepare and pack that morning had dirt caked on it and yellow leaves as garnish. What a waste.

Several months later, Tamiko stared at her dirt free food in the classroom. Since then, no one has intruded themselves on her lunch, and she hasn’t invited anyone to eat with her. It was better this way.

Especially now as she tried to make sense of the scene she witnessed a few minutes ago. Ichigo had arrived, and the moment he saw Rukia, he yanked her out of the room. He seemed to recognize her, but she denied ever having met him before. Why would she lie about something like that?

“Excuse me...Kimura?” A soft voice asked, derailing Tamiko’s train of thought. The chopsticks dropped, clattering against her bento.

Standing before her were Orihime Inoue and Tatsuki Arisawa. They both held wrapped bentos; in Orihime’s other hand was a folded blanket.

“H-huh?” Tamiko blinked.

“We were wondering if you would like to have lunch with us today,” Tatsuki said. “We’re goin’ outside.”

Orihime nodded vigorously. “We’re going to have a picnic!” she exclaimed, thrusting the blanket into Tamiko’s face; she leaned back in response. “It’s far too nice to stay cooped up in a stuffy classroom all day. Do you want to? Picnics are always more fun with a lot of people!”

“S-sure,” Tamiko said.

Before she knew it, they were sitting on the blanket under a tree. Orihime and Tatsuki unwrapped their lunches, what looked like soba noodles and vegetables for Orihime and a salad for Tatsuki. Tamiko concentrated on her tamagoyaki.

Distant laughter and chirping birds floated through the air. At least it was peaceful.

“Egh, how can you eat that stuff, Orihime?” Tatsuki asked, sniffing. “Is that peanut butter?”

“It’s delicious!” Orihime giggled. “Do you want to try some?”

“No, thanks. Too many carbs. I have to keep my weight in check for next week’s competition.”

“What about you, Kimura?”

Tamiko froze, a mouthful of food and chopsticks. She glanced up, Orihime holding out her bento to her. Inside appeared to be an ordinary meal of soba noodles with vegetables, but the scent of peanut overpowered it. Swallowing, the food hit Tamiko’s stomach.

“No. T-thank you,” Tamiko said and grabbed another bite of egg and rice.

While Orihime and Tatsuki chattered, Tamiko ate. She listened to every word, nodding or shaking her head whenever a question came her way.

“You know...I had the strangest dream last night,” Orihime said.

“Oh? What was it about?” Tatsuki asked.

“That we all went on a field trip to outer space!” Orihime exclaimed. “And visited so many planets! There was this wild west town, where everybody rode on giant ladybugs instead of horses. And then this large monster crashed into the skyscraper to profess his love. Then we all sat down and had all kinds of candy and cakes!”

Tatsuki chuckled and patted her on the head. “Sounds like a wild night,” she said. “Let me guess...you went to bed hungry again, didn’t you?”

“No, but I was craving sweets,” Orihime said, giggling. This led into a ramble about various treats, including onigiri stuffed with red bean paste.

Tamiko needed to bite her lip to keep from laughing. ‘Now I’m craving candy,’ she thought. ‘I’ll have to pick some up tomorrow.’

She ate a bite of rice, listening to Orihime go from baked goods to other various foods. Apparently, she had a taste for strange food combinations. Some of which made peanut butter soba sound normal.

“This has been a lot of fun!” Orihime said at the end of her ramble. She put her hands together, beaming. “Next time, we should invite Chizuru, Ryo, Michiru, and Mahana too. Oh! And the new student. Wouldn’t that be fun? You’re invited too, of course, Kimura.”

“Oh, than--” Her gratitude cut short by her quickening heart. Hands shaking, a bite of vegetable and rice slipped and bounced against the blanket. Tamiko scrambled to clean it off. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” Orihime took a bite of food, peanut butter sauce smearing around her mouth. “It wouldn’t be a picnic if we didn’t make a mess!”

Tamiko nodded, wrapping the wasted food up in a napkin. She handed another one to Orihime, wondering what had made her feel ill.

A loud roar shook the air, answering her question. Tamiko let the chopsticks fall, setting down the box in favor of covering her ears. She looked around for the Hollow, but all she could see was Rukia rushing out of the schoolyard. Alongside her was a blurry form, a spirit.

Someone’s hand fell on Tamiko’s shoulder. Her hands slowly lowered from her ears, taking in Orihime’s concerned look.

“You’ve gone pale,” she said. “Are you okay Kimura?”

“Yeah, do ya need the infirmary?” Tatsuki asked.

There came another howl, and neither Orihime nor Tatsuki reacted to it. Clearly, they couldn’t hear the Hollow.

“I’m fine,” Tamiko said, picking up and wrapping her lunch. “I think I’m just going to head back to the classroom.”

“We’ll walk with ya,” Tatsuki said, packing up her lunch.

“Oh, there’s no need.” Tamiko held up a hand. “S-stay. Finish your lunches.”

“I’m all full,” Orihime said, patting her stomach. “Really. I couldn’t eat another bite, so we’ll head back to class together!” She packed up her half eaten lunch as well.

Tamiko hung her head. “Thank you.”

All the way back to the classroom, she stared at her feet. ‘They must not have any reiryoku,’ she realized, ‘if they couldn’t hear the Hollow. Kuchiki, though. That was a spirit running with her. Maybe she can see them like Machiko can.’

“Hey, you should come by my place tomorrow,” Tatsuki said, pausing in front of their classroom. “On Sundays, Orihime and me get together and chat or watch TV.”

“Yeah, that’s always a lot of fun,” Orihime said, eyes sparkling. “Would you like to, Kimura? We’d love to have you.”

“A-actually, my sister and I always spend Sundays shopping together,” Tamiko said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Thank you. For the offer.”

“Next time then,” Orihime said. “I hope you have a great time tomorrow!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday mornings, Machiko went off to her part-time job after breakfast. She has worked at the small candy shop for nearly four years, managing paperwork and other odd jobs. Like with everything else she did, she excelled at it.

So each afternoon, Tamiko went to meet her. The little shop was quaint, but always an enjoyable visit. She grinned, their voices hitting her ears long before she arrived. A boy yelled something while a girl begged, “Oh! Stop it Jinta! We’re supposed to be sweeping.”

Tamiko turned into the yard and was greeted by Jinta Hanakari with Ururu Tsumugiya in a headlock. His knuckles grinded the top of her head. A broom lay discarded behind him while she clutched her own. Tears leaked from her clenched eyes.

“Sweeping is for losers,” Jinta said, showing signs of letting up. “I’m going to be a big time baseball star one day! And big time baseball stars don’t waste their time sweeping dirt yards.”

Walking forward, Tamiko scooped up the broom. Jinta paused in his grinding while Ururu opened her eyes; they followed the broom as Tamiko tested its weight. One eye closed as she brought the handle up to her face, making note of its size and shape.

“Excuse me?” Ururu murmured. “Can we help you, miss?”

“Idiot! You know who that is!” Jinta yelled, grinding resuming; Ururu whimpered. “She’s Machiko’s sister! Hey, just what are you doin’ with that broom, Tamiko?”

Laughter bubbled up. “Showing you how good of a training tool it can be,” Tamiko said, stepping back.

The bristles stabbed the dirt. One hand grasped near the tip while the other slid to the center. Tamiko vigorously swept the yard, kicking up a massive dust storm. She, Jinta, and Ururu coughed, and she stopped.

When the dust cleared, Jinta had a blank look on his face. “That’s good for training?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I like getting dirty as much as the next guy, but come on.”

“Oh.” Tamiko chuckled. “I suppose I did cause quite a stir, huh? Anyway, sweeping can be good for building arm muscles. Don’t big time baseball stars need those?”

“Well...yeah, I guess,” Jinta mumbled, and Tamiko thrusted the broom at him.

“Then you have the perfect training ground and tool right here!”

“Are you sure that’ll work? You’re not just sayin’ it to get me to do chores?” Jinta gave her the stink eye.

“Positive,” Tamiko said and pointed. “Just take a look at Mr. Tsukabishi.”

Tessai Tsukabishi was in the process of unloading the van of its new shipments. He glanced over at them, placed a box down, and wiped sweat from his forehead. Chest puffing out, he struck various poses. Arms flexed, muscles bulging and stretching. When he finished, he pushed up his glasses and carried a stack of boxes into the shop.

Tamiko snorted and snickered, covering her mouth. “See how muscular he is? He sweeps the shop every single day, and he’s massive!”

Jinta’s brows furrowed together. He looked between the shop and the broom before his face broke out into a large grin; he snatched the broom and turned to Ururu. “Hey! Give me your broom!”

“Why?” Ururu asked, hugging it tighter.

“Because I bet I can get even stronger muscles if I use two. So hand it over!”

Tamiko watched as Jinta attacked the ground with a broom in each hand. Another dust storm stirred up, and she chuckled again. She turned and headed into the shop.

Shelves of brightly candies were all that greeted her. Tessai must have taken the boxes to a storage room, but there was no sign of the shop’s manager or Machiko. Maybe they were handling inventory or some paperwork in a backroom?

The storage room lay at the end of a dark hallway. A streak of light streamed out of an ajar door, the only source of light. Tamiko walked towards it, expecting to hear voices. Instead, she heard a shuffling noise.

Peeking through the crack in the doorway, Tamiko saw Kisuke Urahara pulling a box down off of a shelf. On its side read, “Soul Serum.” That was an odd name for a candy. Must be a new addition.

Urahara set the box down and crouched. Just as he started to open it, he sneezed. Sniffling, he placed his hands on his knees. His head turned towards the door. A shadow draped over his eyes, courtesy of the hat on his head, giving him a menacing appearance. He stood and walked towards the door.

Every muscle in Tamiko’s body seized up, heart fluttering. Normally, Urahara was a jovial man, but his expression was as far from it. She swallowed and wondered if she should run away.

“Did you know that curiosity killed the cat, Tamiko?” Urahara asked, stepping out.

Tamiko shivered.

The door shut behind him, further darkening the hallway. It was too late now for her to run, having missed her chance. Now Urahara towered over her, lifting his hand. She squeezed her eyes shut.

A pressure landed on her head, and fingers lightly ruffled her hair. She blinked, seeing that Urahara’s face completely changed. The menacing look was gone, replaced by a grin. His free hand held his fan, and he saluted her with it.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you aren’t a cat, right?” he cheerily asked. “Your sister’s taken some garbage out to the incinerator, but she’ll be done momentarily.”

Relief flooded through Tamiko. She let out a breath, shoulders lowering. “You nearly made me jump straight out of my skin, Mr. Urahara!” she exclaimed, pointing. “Is that how you treat all of your customers?”

“Oh? You’re going to purchase something?” Urahara’s grin widened.

Tamiko crossed her arms, turning away. “I was going to,” she said, “but now I’m thinking that I will take my business elsewhere.” She began to walk away.

“N-now, now, wait a moment, Tamiko!” Urahara shouted, sandals clacking behind her. “You know that your business is always appreciated. How about I let you fill a bag full of any candies you want? Free of charge of course!”

A smirk went over her shoulder. “One of the big bags?”

“Irk.” Urahara covered his face with the fan. “Yes, one of the big bags.”

“Thank you!” Tamiko sang before rushing back into the shop.

“Please pick from the cheaper ones!” he called after.

Tamiko grabbed the biggest bag offered and began filling it with sweets. Lollipops, toffees, sour balls, and hard candies pitter pattered as they fell into the bag.

“Did you weasel free candies from Mr. Urahara again, Tamiko?” Machiko asked, walking up to her.

“Why do you have to make it sound like I do it all the time? Or on purpose?” Tamiko countered, grinning. “Not my fault that that boss of yours nearly gave me a heart attack in the middle of a dark hallway.”

Urahara pouted. “Lies. All lies, Machiko,” he whined. “That sister of yours is too clever. She knows I can’t afford to lose such a valuable customer. I’d go out of business without her!”

“Yes, I am single-handedly keeping this business afloat.” Tamiko chortled with laughter.

“Uh, huh.” Machiko turned to Urahara. “But if you keep giving her free candy, you actually will go out of business. Not to mention giving her a massive stomach ache. What kind of a business man are you?”

A grin snaked across his face. Urahara fanned himself. “Now, now, Machiko. There’s no need to be so dramatic. That particular bag is coming right out of your paycheck. And the one after it. There won’t be a single loss in profits.”

“Right. I should’ve known.” Machiko sighed.

When they left, Tamiko held out the bag to Machiko. She fished out one of the sour balls. After Tamiko retrieved a vanilla toffee, the bag was placed into her backpack.

The candy popped into her mouth. Sweetness and warmth enveloped her tongue, distracting her from their first destination.

Karakura General Hospital towered over everything that surrounded it. Tamiko leaned her head back, legs trembling. She swallowed, trying not to think about how high up they were going.

In the elevator, she grabbed Machiko’s hand and squeezed.

Syun Kimura was a resident pediatrician, and no doubt the best one in the entire country. Most of his patients left the hospital healthier than they were before getting sick. On the rare occasion where he couldn’t save one, he cried, but only long enough to properly mourn the lost child. Quickly, he would bounce back in order to care for the next patient.

The door opened to his room, a symphony of a ventilator and heart monitor played. In the bed, laid their father. Long black hair framed a face as white as snow. Aside from the pale complexion, he looked perfectly healthy.

Rain and squealing tires roared in Tamiko’s ears. She had run into the street. A car was approaching, but she didn’t care; she thought she could outrun it. Her father yelled. Tires screeched, and his arms wrapped around her. Pain and then nothing else.

If it hadn’t been for that, he would be working right now. Tears stung her eyes as she sank into one of the chairs beside the bed. Machiko took the other side, and they each reached for a hand.

Every Sunday, they would visit. In soft voices, they told him everything that had happened to them in that week.

“I was invited to lunch yesterday,” Tamiko said. “A couple of girls from my class. They seem nice...you’d probably like them, Daddy.”

Machiko smiled. “See, you are making friends,” she said. “Isn’t that great, Dad?”

No response, unless one counted a beep from the heart monitor.

When all topics of conversation were exhausted, they sat in silence. Tamiko studied Syun’s face. It remained still. She shifted, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders.

“Okay, Daddy,” she said, giving him a hard look and pointing. “It’s time for you to wake up. So, I command you! Wake up!” She swore she could see the corners of his mouth twitching up, but his eyes didn’t open. Not even a flutter. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

Laughing lightly, Machiko shook her head. “Come on, Tamiko. We need to get some groceries.”

When they stepped outside, Tamiko’s pulse quickened and stomach flipped. She looked around. There was a Hollow nearby, but she couldn’t see anything stalking across the parking lot; all she could hear were the engines of cars driving down the nearby street. The queasiness faded away.

“What’s wrong?” Machiko asked, looking back at her. “You’re pale.”

“I thought there was a Hollow nearby.”

A soft smile appeared. “Don’t worry,” Machiko said. “If there was a Hollow nearby, I’d be able to sense it too. There hasn’t been a single one all day.”

In the supermarket, the queasiness churned Tamiko’s stomach again. She swallowed and glanced around. There certainly couldn’t be a Hollow in here, could there? It wouldn’t be able to fit without knocking down the shelves like dominoes. Although, she had no way of knowing if they were all giant-sized.

Once more, the feeling eased up. ‘I wonder if I’m just coming down with something,’ she thought, touching her forehead. It felt normal.

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Machiko asked, walking towards the produce section.

“Homemade ramen!” Tamiko held up a hand and smiled. “We’ll load it up with tons of vegetables, so you can enjoy it too!”

Groceries in hand, Tamiko and Machiko left the store.

“We certainly have enough ingredients,” Machiko said, carrying a paper sack and three plastic bags.

“Yeah, and we can have ramen every night this week,” Tamiko said as she carried a plastic bag in each hand. “I can use the leftovers for lunch. Noodles will be coming out of my ears!” She giggled.

Machiko wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you think you’d get sick of eating the same thing every day?” she asked.

“Nope. Never!” Tamiko turned and walked backwards. “Because we can always put different ingredients into each batch. With so many ways of preparing it, I could never get sick of it!”

Nausea cut her laughter short. She halted, pressing an arm against her stomach; she clamped her mouth shut and trembled. Her heart skipped a couple of beats, and sweat beaded on her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Machiko asked softly, reaching towards her. “Are you feeling sick?”

“T-there’s something bad here,” Tamiko stammered. “Something familiar...”

Machiko’s brows knitted together. Drifting upward, her eyes widened. Tamiko turned.

Towering over them was the same giant mass she had seen a couple of days ago. At least, it had the same shape of undulating waves. It hadn’t made a single sound, as if it appeared out of thin air.

The Hollow moved, slamming into Tamiko’s chest. She rocketed past Machiko, bags flying out of her hands. Like a ragdoll, she hit the concrete, breath knocked out of her.

“Tamiko!” Machiko screamed, having never raised her voice before.

Each breath Tamiko drew sent ripples of pain through her chest. She shakily sat up, clutching it. A cough sent a metallic taste into her mouth. Blood burst out, dotting the ground before her. Vision went in and out of focus, stomach turning.

A wailing surged through the air. Tamiko looked up just in time to see a sharp, green finger pierce through the paper sack and into Machiko’s chest--straight through her heart. Blood and produce exploded, the Hollow letting her drop to the ground.

Machiko’s eyes were wide, unseeing, staring directly at Tamiko.

She lost the ability to speak. Tamiko screamed, retched, and coughed all at once. Her breath came out in sharp, harsh gasps, and tears streamed down her face. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible.

The long fingers stretched out and curled around her. They lifted her and squeezed. No screams were possible now, as it took everything she had to draw a breath. She screwed her eyes shut.

“Yes, you’re the one,” the Hollow said, hot breath blowing her hair. These monsters could talk? She gagged. “Your soul has such a sweet, interesting smell. Almost as if...”

“Drop her right now, you bastard!” an unmistakably male voice bellowed, causing the Hollow to trail off. There was something awfully familiar about that voice.

“Be careful! You don’t want to hurt her!” another voice yelled. A girl’s, and familiar as well.

Just as Tamiko began to open her eyes to see, the Hollow swung her. Eyes stayed shut against the air rushing past her. It was like being on a carnival ride; direction lost all meaning, being swung up and down, from side to side. Her chest throbbed when she tried to scream. All that came out were coughs that tasted like blood.

“I know! I know!” the boy yelled; the swinging halted. “Damn it! Just let her go already!” It was familiar. Gruff, but not too deep. A voice that she has heard every single day since...

“No way am I about to let go of this tasty prize, Soul Reaper!” the Hollow shouted and swung Tamiko around some more. “Not after I’ve searched for so long!”

“And there’s no way I’m going to let you make a meal of her!”

Pain, dizziness, and a sickness swirling in her stomach became her only thoughts. When at last things grew still again, Tamiko slowly opened her eyes. Everything swam and swirled. Her vision steadied, and she could make out Rukia standing a few feet away from the “spirit.”

“I-Ichi...” Tamiko tried to squeak, but she couldn’t. There wasn’t enough breath.

As Ichigo rushed towards the Hollow, he came into focus. Orange hair rippled in the rushing air. A snarl wrinkled his face. He wore a black shihakusho, and in his hands was a massive sword. With a leap, he brought it down a few inches from Tamiko’s head. It cleaved the Hollow in two.

When it began to fade, it also became fully visible. A giant, green monster with scales scattered throughout and a skull-like mask over its face. Tamiko caught a glimpse of the hole carved within its chest before she plummeted towards the ground. Gasping, she closed her eyes yet again.

She was caught and clutched gently. Her breath came out in ragged gasps. Faintly, she could make out Ichigo unleashing a stream of words. Opening her eyes half way, she reached out towards him.

His eyes were heavy with concern.

A small hand, grasping a device resembling a cigarette lighter, appeared. The button on its side was pressed, and a puff of smoke and little bird on a spring popped out; the smoke filled Tamiko’s vision before everything faded away.


	2. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamiko awakens in the hospital to the news that her sister is dead. She has no memories of the accident, but she knows that it has to be her fault. Down she goes into the pits of despair. Her classmates do everything they can to pull her out of it, but are they doing it out of genuine concern or pity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

Her pounding heart ignited an inferno of pain. Tamiko drew a ragged breath. All around her was dark and silent, as if she had been plunged into a pool of nothingness. She tried to move, to feel around so she could understand where she was, but none of her limbs obeyed. Neither her mouth or eyes would open, as if they were sewn shut.

Something heavy laid over her nose and mouth. Gradually, she noticed other things. A blanket pulled up to her chest. The beep of an oxygen monitor, its clip pressed down on a finger. An itching sensation on her hand from a strip of tape holding down a plastic tube.

Tapping feet followed by a rattling, rustling sound came. Someone moved and wrapped a band around her arm. The chill of metal made her shiver, and the band tightened.

“Blood pressure 145 over 90,” a soft voice reported, the band deflating. A pen scratched on paper. Something was stuck into Tamiko’s ear. After it beeped, the voice said, “Normal. 36 degrees.”

For several minutes, the woman spoke out Tamiko’s vitals and her partner jotted them down. Tamiko listened to every sound, heart slowing. A sharp pain pricked her wrist, and she whimpered weakly. She opened her mouth, but her tongue was as heavy as lead.

“Has she woken yet?” a new voice asked. It was deeper with a slight monotone.

“We believe so,” the soft-voiced nurse replied. “When we did the ABG test, she responded to the pain. Her blood pressure remains high, but it and her temperature have held steady for the last couple of hours.”

“Do you have the results of the test?”

“We just received it,” the other nurse said, his voice not nearly as deep as the new person’s. “She is currently at 81 mmHg. It’s up from 78 mmHg upon admittance.”

Feet stepped closer to the bed, and a gentle pressure laid on Tamiko’s shoulder. “If you can hear me, Miss Kimura,” the doctor said, “I’m going to listen to your lungs. Breathe as deeply as you can.”

The chill of a stethoscope pressed against her skin. Each time the device moved, she took strained, ragged breaths. A whimper went along each one.

“No fluid, but they are struggling,” the doctor said, removing the stethoscope. “Miss Kimura, could you open your eyes for me?”

Her eyelids twitched twice before blinking open. The world around Tamiko was blurry and blindingly bright. She clenched her eyes and moaned.

“Keep them open,” the doctor commanded. “I need to see how alert you are.”

Again, they blinked open. Set in a pair of thin glasses, cold blue eyes met them. A name tag hung from the pocket of his coat, but she couldn’t make it out. Something about him was familiar.

“Do you know where you are, Miss Kimura?” he asked. “Do not strain yourself to speak. You can simply mouth the words.”

Slowly, Tamiko mouthed the word, “Hospital.” Her nose wrinkled and stomach turned at the stench drifting between her lips. She choked back a gag. Eyes began to close again, but she blinked rapidly to keep them open.

“Nausea is a common symptom when coming off of anesthesia. You’ll feel better as soon as it wears off. Incidentally, if you feel the urge to cough, do so. It is imperative to keep your lungs clear. Do you understand, Miss Kimura?”

Tamiko moved her head in a way she thought was a nod, making the room wobble. Her stomach flipped in response, and she swallowed.

“You are at Karakura General Hospital,” the doctor said. “I am the doctor in charge of your case. My name is Ishida. Do you know who I am?”

It was a familiar name. Tamiko furrowed her brows, trying to recall where she has heard or seen it before. Somewhere recent, but the memory slipped out of her grasp.

“I am the director of the hospital and your father’s physician. Miss Kimura, how much do you remember of what has happened?”

Remember? Tamiko’s eyes darted around the room, settling on the blurry forms of the two nurses. They appeared to be writing something. Dr. Ishida cleared his throat, and Tamiko looked back at him, eyes wide.

“I don’t remember,” she mouthed.

“Do not worry,” Dr. Ishida said. “Your memory should return in time. Miss Kimura, you were in a serious traffic accident earlier this afternoon. You sustained broken ribs and a fractured sternum. They caused damage to your lungs, but it was repaired with a thoracotomy. We’ll need to monitor you closely for a while to make sure no infections or other complications develop.”

Heart skipped a beat. Memories flooded into her mind, but nothing recent. She had been much smaller when the last time she had woken up in a hospital bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines. Before the scream could leave her mouth, Machiko had grabbed her hands and then comforted her with whispers.

Where was Machiko now? She should have said something by now. Once more, Tamiko glanced around the room, desperate to find her sister’s blurry form.

“M-Machiko.” She coughed and wheezed from the effort.

Dr. Ishida pushed up his glasses and straightened. “Keep her here another couple of hours,” he said to the nurses. “Do another ABG. If the results are 95%, take her upstairs. If her blood pressure or temperature get any higher, notify me immediately.”

“Yes, Dr. Ishida,” both nurses said.

“Miss Kimura, once you are more stable, they’ll take you to your room.” Dr. Ishida turned back to face Tamiko. “I will come have a talk with you after you’ve had some rest.” With that, he disappeared behind the curtain.

Tamiko closed her eyes, trying not to cry. Why wasn’t Machiko there? She should be. Something was wrong. Her heart resumed its beating against her chest. She moaned and swallowed the bile that threatened to rocket up her throat. A prick in her arm brought relief, body deflating. The nothingness was welcomed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A mirror image of her father’s room, Tamiko sat in a large bed centered in a room on the 9th floor. To her right was a window, showcasing the town’s skyline; a couch and coffee table sat underneath it. Sunlight draped across the bouquet of yellow and pink flowers on the table.

On her left was a nightstand, sink, stool, and a door that led to a full-sized bathroom. The nightstand held a phone and box of tissues. One of the nurses had demonstrated how to make calls to the nurses’ station or outside the hospital. Tamiko couldn’t see herself using it for the latter event.

Across from the bed was a dresser with a TV on top and a mini fridge beside it. The other nurse had informed Tamiko that she could help herself to anything inside once Dr. Ishida gave permission. He also said that the TV had access to every available channel, including movies.

Tamiko stared at her fuzzy reflection on the screen, taking in her hair tangled within oxygen tubes. They made her nose itch, but they were an improvement over the mask. Sighing, she lowered herself down to stare at the ceiling.

Nothing mattered. Machiko still hadn’t visited, meaning she must have been in the accident too. Could she be in worst shape? Or...? Tamiko clenched her eyes shut, not wanting to fathom the possibility. Either way, there was no one there to hold her hand.

‘Mother should be here,’ Tamiko thought, balling the blanket in her fists, ‘but of course she isn’t. Has she even visited Daddy in the last five years?’ Tears burned her eyes. She let out a weak sob, sending an explosion of pain through her chest.

There came a rapping on the door. “Miss Kimura, I’m coming in,” Dr. Ishida said.

The door creaked open, and feet tapped against the floor to her bed. She watched him pull the stool over and sit down. He rested a folder in his lap, opening it.

“Do you remember what I told you earlier?” he asked, taking a pen from his pocket. “Concerning the accident and your surgery?”

“Where’s my sister?” Tamiko asked.

“We had to perform an emergency thoracotomy.” Dr. Ishida briefly explained the details of the procedure, his cold eyes piercing through her. “Recovery time can take six to eight weeks, but since you sustained broken bones, recovery may take up to 10 weeks. We’ll be keeping you for a while to monitor your breathing.”

“Machiko. Was she in the accident too?”

Dr. Ishida pushed up his glasses. “Your lungs are in a weakened state and are susceptible to collapse or pneumonia. You’ll be undergoing respiratory therapy to help regain their strength. Any questions?”

“Where is Machiko!?” Tamiko yelled.

The pain was indescribable, erupting through her chest. Her hands flew to it, she letting out a gasp. A hand rested on her shoulder.

“Breathe, Miss Kimura,” Dr. Ishida said.

She took a couple of ragged breaths and coughed. When the pain eased, she choked out, “What happened to Machiko?”

An exasperated sigh. “Miss Kimura, you need to--”

“Tell me.”

“It would be wise to wait until you’re stronger.”

“Please!” The oxygen monitor emitted a harsh beep.

Dr. Ishida squeezed her shoulder. “You must remain calm, Miss Kimura,” he said, and she shook her head. “Unfortunately, there was nothing that could have been done. When the paramedics arrived, it was too late. Your sister was pronounced dead at the scene.”

A strangled cry rushed out of her mouth. Tamiko gasped for a breath, the heart monitor letting out a series of harsh beeps. The words “Machiko is dead” drowned out the noise. It couldn’t be true. It was impossible.

Dozens of blades drove themselves into her chest, and she couldn’t breathe. A sharp prick hit her arm, and the oxygen mask returned to her face. The torrent calmed as she took in a breath. Dr. Ishida said, “Breathe, Little Kimura. That is all you have to do. Just breathe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thermometer in her ear beeped and was pulled out. For two days after the surgery, Tamiko avoided looking at either of the nurses who attended her, opting to stare out the window and instead. She never responded to what they said either. It was enough just to simply breathe.

“Up to 38.8,” the nurse said. “Dr. Ishida has ordered a few tests for you. I’ll be drawing some blood to check for infections, and you are scheduled for a chest x-ray this afternoon. Do you understand, Miss Kimura?”

It didn’t matter if she understood or not. They were going to do it anyway. It was their job, after all.

So Tamiko flinched at the needle jabbed in her arm, the only sound she made was a rasping cough that set in late last night and hasn’t gone away. The nurse pushed a pillow into her arms, reminding her to support her chest.

After the chest x-ray, Tamiko was pushed back into her room. Something on the nightstand caught her eye. A backpack. Her backpack with the red panda keychain still clipped to it. They were clean, but ripped and torn in several places.

“Look at what turned up while you were downstairs,” the nurse said cheerfully, lifting it up. “Everything remained intact, except for that massive bag of candy. Dr. Ishida had it disposed of, but look! Your games are fine. That bag must have cushioned them.”

One by one, Tamiko’s things were pulled out and set on the nightstand, all within arm’s reach. Her Game Boy Advance and small case of games. The manga she had been reading. A sewing kit. Her glasses and contacts case.

“Isn’t this great, Miss Kimura?” the nurse asked, placing the backpack on her lap. “Well, it’s a shame that your bag received so much damage. That poor little keychain, but you should be able to fix it with that sewing kit of yours. You must be so happy to see it again!”

Tamiko eyed the keychain, tears burning her eyes. She turned away from it, resuming to stare out the window. Her hand held her chest as a cough forced its way out.

“Yes, well...” The nurse trailed off, placing the bag back on the nightstand. “Dr. Ishida should have the results of your tests in a few hours. Call if you require anything.” She bowed and left.

Time drifted by like the clouds. The sky turned into the light orange of sunset. It also timed the arrival of the dinner tray. Grilled chicken, soybeans, spinach, and rice. Tamiko couldn’t remember the last time she ate. Her nose wrinkled up and pushed the tray as far from her as she could.

Two knocks resounded before Dr. Ishida strode into the room, sheet of paper in hand. “All of the tests came back negative for infections. Your chest x-ray shows atelectasis, which is a condition of...”

He droned on about the medical condition, Tamiko blocking it out. All it meant was more breathing exercises and poking and prodding. It didn’t matter if she paid attention or not.

Dr. Ishida loudly cleared his throat. “Miss Kimura, it is imperative that you pay attention to my words. Your condition is serious. Also.” The dinner tray was brought up against her stomach. “You need to eat. Bear in mind that your father has received his meals through a feeding tube for nearly six years now.”

Tamiko whimpered, looking up at him. His icy gaze enveloped her, and she shivered. Without a word, she picked up the chopsticks and ate a small bite of soybeans.

Time passed slowly, Tamiko in and out of sleep all evening. She woke up only to cough and shift around. Late in the night, she shot awake. Pain resonated from her pounding heart. A familiar howl ripped through town. She screamed, “M-Machi--”

Coughing cut her off. One hand covered her mouth while the other reached out, expecting to feel her sister’s hand grasp it before pulling her into her arms. It never came.

The beeping of the monitor jolted Tamiko back into reality. Tears poured down her cheeks, her breathing becoming ragged. ‘Machiko is dead.’

A nurse rushed into the room, armed with a sedative. It was injected into Tamiko’s arm, quieting her sobs. Everything faded away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, Tamiko got better. After three full days, the fever broke and the cough eased. However, she wasn’t freed from the oxygen tubes, and the respiratory therapy only increased the more alert she was.

Her first gift arrived, carried in by one of the nurses. A large bouquet of pink roses was set on the nightstand. The nurse pulled out a card.

“Looks like one of your friends has sent you a present,” she said brightly, waving it around. “A Chizuru Honsho! And. Oh. You may want to read this for yourself.” She giggled, handing the card over.

The first thought was to push the card away, but Tamiko’s curiosity got the best of her. She put on her glasses and read, ‘Dearest Kimura, I was so terribly sad to hear about the accident! You poor thing. I bet you look adorable in those hospital pajamas. Wish I could be there to see.’ Underneath her signature was a chibi sketch of herself winking and blowing a kiss.

Her face heated up to the point where Tamiko was certain the fever has returned, well aware of Chizuru’s promiscuous behavior around Orihime. The girl was anything but subtle, but would she find Tamiko adorable like this? A glance at the TV screen told her that it was unlikely.

Chizuru’s bouquet wasn’t the only thing to arrive that day. Two more vases of flowers were carried in and set on the coffee table--orange and yellow tulips courtesy of Keigo and Mizuiro. Their cards weren’t nearly as embarrassing, but Keigo practically asked her to go on a date with him.

Tamiko dropped the card on the nightstand, shaking her head.

With each passing day, more gifts trickled in. Books from Ryo and a stuffed dog from Michiru were among them. The rest were all from names she couldn’t put faces to. People she felt certain didn’t know who she was before the accident.

‘They’re definitely taking pity on me,’ Tamiko thought, shaking her head at the accumulating flowers and stuffed animals. ‘All so they can get something from me like copying my notes or making me buy their lunch. It’s happened before.’

In junior high, Tamiko strove to make as many friends as possible. She talked to nearly everyone in her class. Anytime a problem came up, she offered to fix it. Someone out sick? She made copies of her notes for them. They left their lunch? Tamiko bought a replacement or shared hers. Wanted to skip cleaning duty? All one had to do was ask Tamiko, and she would cover for them.

It escaped her notice when her classmates began to take advantage of her kindness.

“Hey, Kimura, did you finish those notes for me while I was out sick?” one girl asked on the walk to school.

“Sure did,” Tamiko said, pulling out the notebook from her backpack. “Took me nearly the whole night, but I finished. Barely gave me time to finish--”

The notebook was snatched out of her hands. “Yeah, yeah, as long as you copied everything correctly,” the girl said, flipping through the pages. “Ugh, could your handwriting be any dorkier?”

Tamiko giggled and pushed up her glasses with the palm of her hand. “That’s because I am a dork.”

“At least I can read it.” The girl smiled and patted Tamiko on the shoulder. “Thanks, Kimura. I owe you one.”

“No problem. Always happy to help.”

At lunchtime, Tamiko walked behind a group of classmates to the cafeteria. When they reached the purchase line, one of the guys digging around in his pockets groaned, “Looks like I forgot my wallet today. Hey, Kimura, could you spot me again? You always seem to have plenty of money.”

“Oh, of course. You know, that wallet of yours seems to go missing an awful lot. You’d think it grew legs and walked off.” Tamiko handed over a handful of coins with a grin.

“Maybe,” the boy said, chuckling. “Thanks, Kimura! You’re a life saver!”

“What are friends for?”

When Tamiko reached the cashier to pay for her juice, she discovered that she didn’t have enough money to pay for it. She looked up to ask one of her classmates to help, but they were already walking off to their usual table. With a shrug, Tamiko joined them without a beverage.

One morning, the boy she bought lunch for approached her, his friends at his heels. “Hey, Kimura. Do you remember what you said the other day? Somethin’ about ‘what are friends for?’”

Tamiko nodded, beaming at him. “Sure do,” she said. “Why? Is there something you need?”

“You bet. See, my friend over here sits between us, and our buddy sits in front of him.” The boy gestured to each of his friends. “All of us forgot to study for today’s Japanese test. You studied for it, right?”

“Pretty sure I know everything that’ll be on the test by heart,” Tamiko said. “So what to do you want to do? Get a cram session in during break before the exam?”

“Nah, that isn’t nearly enough time to prepare,” the boy said, smirking. “What we had in mind was that you would let Sakamoto here copy from your exam, and we’ll copy off of his. Simple as that.”

Tamiko looked between the three smirking faces. “Y-you want to cheat off me?” She took a step back. “There’s no way I am doing that.”

“What did you say?” the boy asked, closing the gap between them.

“I-I said that I won’t do it.” Tamiko glared. “I’ll do what I can to help you study, but I will not let you cheat. That is where I draw the line!”

“You little bi--” Sakamoto snarled, raising a fist towards her that was intercepted by a large hand.

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” their homeroom teacher asked. “Just what were you about to do to Miss Kimura here?”

The boys stepped back, except for Sakamoto who still had his fist caught. “N-nothing, sir. We were just chatting.”

“That’s a lie!” Tamiko yelled, ducking behind the teacher. “They wanted to cheat off of me, Mr. Yamazaki.”

“I see,” Yamazaki said. “Come along, boys. I think the principal would like to hear about this. Especially after the three of you were caught smoking behind the school. You come too, Miss Kimura.”

All three were suspended and sent home. Tamiko was walking from school when they ambushed her in the park. She backed away, holding up her hands and murmuring apologies. It didn’t do any good. They advanced. When she turned to run, they caught and slammed her into the ground.

Their punches and kicks bruised her body. Tamiko curled further into a ball with each one. At the end, they shattered her glasses and smeared dirt all over her uniform and hair.

She was put in the hospital for a few days because of it. There were no gifts then. That was when she realized that none of them had ever been her friends. They had only used her. It would never happen again.

So what did it mean when the classmates she has never spoken to sent gifts? It was only pity for Machiko’s death. That was the only logical conclusion that Tamiko could come to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week. Sunday marked an entire week since Machiko died, and Tamiko still couldn’t remember what happened. Every waking moment she tried to recall, but all she could manage were the morning and early afternoon hours--everything after visiting her father was a complete blank.

She has continued to get stronger, managing to get to the bathroom on her own. She could even breathe without assistance, glad to see the last of the oxygen tubes and mask, but the monitor remained.

The only people she has seen are the nurses and Dr. Ishida. No one has come to visit her, even her mother; the phone remained silent. It was no surprise, though. Tamiko barely spoke to anyone. She never expected to see a soul.

So when the nurse poked her head in and announced, “Miss Kimura, you have a couple of visitors. May they come in?” it was a complete shock.

Tamiko’s heart leaped into her throat, staring at the nurse as if she had something on her face. There were people wanting to see her? She touched her hair, grateful that the nurse had helped her wash and brush it out earlier; she scrambled to put her contacts in. “Y-yes.”

The head disappeared, and Orihime and Tatsuki walked into the room. In Orihime’s hands was a brightly wrapped box; various body parts of stuffed animals poked out from under the lid. Tatsuki only carried a bundle of papers.

“Good afternoon, Kimura!” Orihime greeted brightly. She set her burden on the bed. “We finally managed to sneak in!”

“S-sneak in?” Tamiko blinked, looking to Tatsuki for an explanation. “Finally?”

“Nah, we were let in,” Tatsuki said with a chuckle. “They haven’t been allowin’ any visitors because of how bad it was. Orihime’s been calling the hospital every single day to see how you were doin’. You were pretty sick there for a while, they said.”

“Then when I called this morning, they said we could come see you after lunch!” Orihime’s eyes sparkled. “I asked if Tatsuki could come too, and they said it was fine as long as we were quiet.”

Tatsuki patted Orihime on the head. “Yeah, she woke me up this morning celebrating how we could come see ya today.”

“Oh.” Tamiko looked away, blushing. Was that why no one has visited or called her? Now that she thought about it, it did make sense. Shifting, she nudged the box. “Ah. W-what do you have in there, Inoue?”

“I am so glad you asked!” Orihime beamed, patting the box. “There are exactly seven stuffed animals in here. One for each day you’ve been in the hospital. Two bears, two kitties, and three puppies.” She counted them off on her fingers.

“And all I brought is crummy homework,” Tatsuki said, waving the bundle of papers. “I also copied over my notes for ya. Hope you can read my handwriting.”

Tamiko blinked, watching the papers fan out. Now why would she go do a thing like that? She was always the one copying notes, but no one had ever done it for her.

“Aww, but I told you that the stuffed animals could be from both of us Tatsuki!” Orihime argued, arms flailing.

“I can’t take any credit for it,” Tatsuki said, placing Tamiko’s homework on the nightstand. “It was your idea and money, after all. I can always send some flowers or somethin’ later.”

“N-neither of you need to give anything!” Tamiko blurted out; they blinked at her, and she looked out the window. “I mean. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Kimura,” Orihime said softly. “We want to do everything we can to help you feel better. It’s terrible, about what happened to your sister. I’m sorry.” Her voice broke.

They were here out of pity. Tears blurred her vision, Tamiko keeping her gaze on the window. She wished they would leave already. Nothing they were doing would bring Machiko back. There was no point to it.

The box moved. Orihime sat down on the edge of the bed and took one of Tamiko’s hands. “It’s horrible, losing someone you are close to. Three years ago, I lost my older brother. He was the only family I had.

“When he died, I felt like I was the only person in the entire world. I didn’t think I’d be able to go on. Then I met Tatsuki, and I started to feel less lonely.” Orihime paused to smile at Tatsuki, who quickly returned it. “No one could ever replace your sister or my brother, but neither of us are alone. We have each other! Just come to us whenever you feel like the only person in the entire world.”

“Why?” Tamiko asked, half to herself.

“Because we’re your friends, Tamiko!” Orihime squeezed her hand.

Eyes widened at the use of her first name. How could she so easily call her a friend like that when...? Tamiko snatched her pillow and hugged it against her chest as she sobbed.

It was gently tugged out of her arms, and Orihime replaced it with a stuffed bear. “Pillows are for your head, but stuffed animals are for hugging. I always feel better with one around, so a bunch should help you a lot!”

Tatsuki chuckled. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Orihime.”

“Sure it does,” Orihime said with a firm nod. “It’s a scientific fact that happier patients tend to heal faster than depressed ones.”

“If ya say so...”

Tamiko stared into the glass eyes of the bear before pressing it to her chest to cough. Friends. It was a nice thought, but could it be true? Did they really just want to be friends?

Long after Orihime and Tatsuki left, Tamiko opened her eyes, remembering that she and Machiko went grocery shopping last Sunday.

‘Machiko had asked me what I wanted for dinner,’ she thought. ‘We bought loads of ingredients for ramen. There was something else, but what?’

Something moved out of the corner of her eye. Tamiko jerked her head towards the window, but there was nothing there. Just the moonlight streaming through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a surprise to be receiving another visitor. When Chad strode through the door with an armload of stuffed animals, Tamiko pulled the blanket up to her chest and stared at him. He stared back.

A whole minute ticked by before he looked up to scan the room. “Oh. You already have a lot. Sorry.”

Tamiko blinked, and looked around the room. Stuffed animals looked back at her, sitting on every available surface. “Ahh. T-that’s ok, Sado. Why did you bring so many?”

“I couldn’t decide on just one,” he said, looking at them. “Every time I found one I thought you would like, I grabbed it.”

She blushed, squeezing the blanket.. “Y-yes. Thank you.”

Chad grunted, face softening. He walked by the bed and dumped the toys on the couch; they landed in a chorus of squeaks, a lion landing on top had the loudest one. With his back to her, Chad blocked the entire window.

An interesting person. That’s who Chad was. Tamiko remembered seeing him on her first day at Mashiba Junior High. A giant, stepping out of the woods with ramen intended for his and Ichigo’s lunches. Instead, one became hers. He went along with Ichigo’s suggestion for her to have one without a single question or complaint.

When the boys from her old junior high showed up to cause trouble, Chad fought them along with Ichigo. Again, not questioning it. He just did it. Not once has he asked for anything in return. The only thing he had asked her was about the keychain on their first day of high school.

“There’s someone out there,” Chad said, drawing Tamiko out of her reverie.

She leaned forward to look around him. Pain surged, and she placed a hand on her chest with a groan; her eyes squeezed shut.

Giant hands laid against her shoulders, gently helping her to lay back down. “You probably shouldn’t move. She’s gone.”

“Did you really see someone?” Tamiko asked, opening her eyes.

“Enough to know that she was a girl. How, though? Isn’t this the 9th floor?”

Tamiko looked him directly in the eye. She gestured for him to come closer, and he knelt down so his head was even with hers. “A spirit could.”

What she expected was for Chad to laugh. He didn’t. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at the window. “I’ve been seeing strange things lately. Like that girl I saw. Whenever I go to get a closer look, they’re gone. Are they spirits?”

“Yeah. You believe me?” Tamiko asked, and he nodded. She gave him a small smile. “My sister could see them her entire life. I never could, but I hear them sometimes, and then there are--”

Someone knocking on the door cut her off. It opened, the nurse’s head poking in. “Just letting you know that you have breathing exercises in three minutes, Miss Kimura,” she said. “I’m sorry, but we have to ask your friend to cut his visit short. He can come back another day.”

Chad nodded, and the nurse closed the door. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Tamiko asked, eyes widening. She looked down. “You’re the one being asked to leave. A-anyway. You didn’t...”

A hand rested on top of her head. She looked up at Chad’s softened eyes. “Your smile is cute,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “You should do it more often.”

“I-I...” Hands flew to her mouth, face hotter than the sun.

He gently ruffled her hair before standing. “Get well soon, Kimura.”

With his hand held up, he strode out the door.

After dinner, Tamiko took a brief, reluctant walk down the hallway to the lounge. Exercise, the nurse holding a wheelchair behind her had called it, all to help aid in her recovery.

Tamiko remembered something about the day Machiko died. ‘After visiting father and in the grocery store, I sensed a Hollow. Machiko said she couldn’t sense it, and it never appeared.’

Didn’t it?

Upon returning to her room, Tamiko saw movement in the window. She looked up in time to see a hand and a stream of long, black hair. The girl that Chad saw earlier, had to be. A spirit.

‘I saw her,’ Tamiko thought, not taking her eyes away from the window as she got back into bed. ‘I can see spirits now?’

Tamiko wished she would come back so she could know for sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock was soft, barely noticeable. If Tamiko had been asleep or watching TV, she may not have heard it at all. She stared at the door, expecting a nurse to walk through. A few seconds went by before another couple of taps.

“Kimura?” Uryu asked, and her eyes widened. “The nurse said you’re accepting visitors. May I come in?”

Uryu? The boy who she never saw talk with anyone at school? Tamiko hastily grabbed her hairbrush and ran it through her hair; she put in her contacts, saying, “Y-you may.”

He walked in, carrying a neatly wrapped box tied with white ribbon. It was handed to her while he looked off to the side. “This is for you. Just a little something I made.”

Tamiko took and stared at it, brows furrowing. She undid the ribbon and pulled off the lid. Underneath a blanket of white tissue paper laid a hand sewn stuffed animal. Brown, glass eyes stared up at her. She lifted it out, feeling it’s velvet fur. The markings on the face, pointed ears, and striped tail could only belong to one animal.

“A red panda,” Tamiko whispered. “My...”

“Favorite animal,” Uryu finished.

“H-how?”

Uryu pushed up his glasses. “I have knowledge of many things.”

‘Sure,’ Tamiko thought, rubbing the stuffed animal’s ear with her thumb.

It was unbelievable that he went through so much trouble to make something for her. Wouldn’t it have been easier to buy one from the store and drop it off at the nurse’s station like everyone else? “Thank you.”

“It was nothing. Really. It was simple to make.” Uryu cleared his throat.

Silence hung between them. Tamiko stared at the red panda while Uryu moved in the corner of her eye. She glanced over to see him leaning closer to the nightstand, something catching his eye; she followed his gaze and saw the red panda keychain lying beside her sewing kit.

“Isn’t that keychain special to you?” he asked. “Why haven’t you fixed it yet?”

Tears burned. Tamiko looked towards the window. “Guess I haven’t been feeling up to it.”

“Mind if I take a closer look?”

Tamiko shrugged. He must have taken it as consent, because he picked up the keychain and brought it up to his face. It was turned, looked at from every angle, fingers brushing against the tears as if he were examining a patient. His eyes grew intense, familiar.

She leaned forward, wincing. That face. Those eyes. No wonder Dr. Ishida had looked so familiar. The resemblance between them was uncanny.

‘So he’s the son of the director,’ Tamiko thought. ‘Strange. I can’t see Dr. Ishida being the fatherly type. Maybe he is completely different at home?’

A chill overcame her; she pulled the blanket and stuffed animal closer to her. Out in the hallway, someone was coming, their presence as cold as ice. The air grew heavier the closer the person came to her door.

“I-Ishida,” Tamiko whispered.

“What’s wrong, Kimura?” Uryu asked, lowering the keychain. “You don’t look so...” A glare darkened his eyes as he whirled towards the door.

The light tapping of Dr. Ishida’s signature knock resounded. “Miss Kimura, I am here for your examination.” The door swung open, and he sauntered in. One hand was hidden in his pocket while the other carried her chart. He looked up, smirking. Voice dripping with sarcasm, he said, “Oh, so you have a visitor. How nice.”

“Ryuken!” Uryu growled, fist tightening around the trinket. “What are you doing here?”

“Not only do you disrespect your father by calling him by his first name, you dare raise your voice inside a hospital room,” Dr. Ishida said calmly, shaking his head. “Didn’t I raise you better than that?”

“Raise me?” Uryu spat. “When did you ever do that? Besides, you haven’t answered my question!”

“I’m her physician, Uryu.” Dr. Ishida waved the folder. “Shouldn’t that be obvious? Use that brain of yours for a change.”

Tamiko hugged the stuffed animal, looking back and forth between Uryu and Dr. Ishida. Her breath came in short bursts, sweat breaking out on her forehead.

“Since when does the director take on a trauma patient?” Uryu asked, voice sharper than a knife.

“As director, I can take on whoever I want,” Dr. Ishida said, pushing up his glasses. “I do not discriminate against a person’s medical condition. Why are you asking such idiotic questions?”

“It is not idiotic. There has to be a reason why you would take her on as a patient.”

Dr. Ishida regarded Uryu with a raised eyebrow. “Why should there be a specific reason?” he asked. “I am a physician, and she is a patient. That’s all there is to it.”

“There’s no way ‘that’s all there is to it!’” Uryu yelled, stepping forward. “Tell me! Why would you--”

The harsh beep of the oxygen monitor cut him off. Tamiko held the red panda tighter, eyes wide. The heaviness dissipated, and she drew in big gulps of air, coughing and wheezing.

Dr. Ishida walked up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think you should go, Uryu,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Miss Kimura’s condition is extremely delicate. She doesn’t need you throwing a tantrum in the middle of her room.”

If looks could kill, Dr. Ishida would drop dead. “Fine, I’m going.” Uryu stormed out of the room without so much as a glance at Tamiko.

“Please, forgive my son, Miss Kimura,” Dr. Ishida said, gently squeezing her shoulder. “He tends towards melodrama.”

Tamiko lay back on the pillow, stuffed animal still wrapped up in her arms. She looked into Dr. Ishida’s eyes and shivered. Whatever had made the air heavy, Uryu and Dr. Ishida shared the blame.

It wasn’t until late in the night that Tamiko realized Uryu had walked off with her keychain. He must have forgotten that he was holding it. The red panda he had made stayed beside her on the bed. Its stitching was so perfect that she could have sworn it came from the store.

‘He’s the only one to tell the truth,’ Tamiko thought, poking the stuffed animal. ‘We’re just classmates, but why did he go through so much trouble to make something so amazing?’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast stared up at her. Like everyday, Tamiko forced herself to eat, not wanting to face Dr. Ishida’s wrath. Ever since his confrontation with Uryu, she could sense his every movement, whether he went downstairs or simply strolled around his office. Somehow, she got the feeling he could sense her as well.

So, Tamiko ate every bite set out in front of her regardless of how hungry she was.

A memory surfaced that caused her to freeze mid bite. She remembered flying a few feet before hitting the ground. That must have been when she sustained her injury, because she had coughed up blood immediately after.

Her hands shook, and she set her spoon down to keep from spilling porridge everywhere. What caused her to go flying back? Whatever it was, she had a feeling it was what killed Machiko.

“Could it have been...?” Tamiko started, but movement snapped her attention. She looked out the window, catching a flash of light green. “W-wait! Come back!”

But the spirit didn’t appear again. Tamiko frowned and took back up her spoon. Her heart ached at a sudden idea, but she shook her head. ‘Best not to get my hopes up. Hopefully, she’s passed on. Otherwise...’

The thought of Machiko getting devoured by a Hollow turned Tamiko’s stomach. She sighed, wrinkling her nose at the remains of her breakfast. The spoonful of porridge was shoved into her mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What was this? It was one thing to sense Dr. Ishida’s a movement--he was an intimidating person--but to sense someone else? Tamiko couldn’t seem to take her eyes away from the floor, as if she were drawn to where that person was.

Before long, they were coming up the elevator. Could it be Uryu? He seemed to be a lot like his father despite their animosity towards each other. Whatever she perceived from Dr. Ishida, it stood to reason that she could perceive from Uryu as well.

When the person stepped up to the door, Tamiko noticed another presence with them. It was fragile, like a delicate ice sculpture. Especially in comparison.

A firm knock hit the door. “Hey, Tamiko,” Ichigo said. “Rukia and I have come to visit you.”

Rukia and Ichigo? She could sense them as well? Dr. Ishida, Uryu, Rukia, and Ichigo. Those four people in particular. What could be different about them?

Reiryoku. Tamiko’s mind whirled. If Ichigo had reiryoku, did that mean a Hollow did attack his house that night?

Another knock came, along with Rukia whispering, “She’s probably asleep.”

“Maybe,” Ichigo said.

“N-no, wait!” Tamiko called as she felt them moving away. “I’m awake! You may come in.”

In they walked, Rukia with the same polite smile she wore on the first day of school and Ichigo wearing his usual scowl. While she carried a small box, Ichigo was empty-handed. One hand hung at his side while the other rubbed his head. For some reason, he wouldn’t look at Tamiko.

Rukia bowed. “Good afternoon. I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself.” She straightened and frowned. “I wish it could have been under different circumstances. I am Rukia Kuchiki, and I recently transferred into your class. I believe your name is Kimura?”

“Ah, yes,” Tamiko said, bowing her head in return. “Tamiko Kimura. It is nice to meet you, Kuchiki.”

She looked back at Ichigo, whose gaze was focused on the window. If she was sensing reiryoku, he must have a lot of it, the air thickening slightly.

“Here, I’ve brought you something.” Rukia thrusted the box into Tamiko’s line of vision. “I’m afraid that it isn’t much, considering how many other gifts you’ve received.”

Tamiko blinked before taking it. Inside was a stuffed rabbit, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. “It’s adorable, Rukia. Thank you.”

“Isn’t it? You’ll have to forgive Ichigo’s rudeness for not bringing anything.”

Ichigo turned his scowl on Rukia. “I’m here, aren’t I?” he grumbled. “That’s good enough.”

“How can you be so rude?” Rukia asked, scowling back at him. “Isn’t it common courtesy to bring an injured classmate a gift while she’s in the hospital?”

“That may be true, but it looks like a bunch of people already beat me to the punch.” Ichigo jabbed a thumb towards the flowers and stuffed animals scattered around the room. “Doubt she could fit much more in here, anyway.”

Tamiko blocked out the rest of their banter, rubbing the rabbit’s ear with her thumb. They didn’t need to come either. Why bother? They weren’t going to gain anything from it, not if she had anything to say about that.

A hand landed on top of her head. She jerked, meeting Ichigo’s softened eyes. “Hey. You doin’ okay there, Tamiko?”

“I-I...” Tamiko sighed, glancing away. “You didn’t have to come at all. Nobody did, and they didn’t have to send their pity gifts either. No one asked them to.”

“You can’t be serious,” Ichigo said, leaning closer. “Do you honestly believe that everyone did it out of pity?”

“What other reason is there?” Tamiko asked, eyes burning. A tear rolled down her cheek. “My sister died. That made everyone feel bad, so they--”

Ichigo put weight into his hand, causing her head to bow and eyes to close. “There’s no way you’re that stupid. No one has spoken a word about Machiko. All anyone at school can talk about is you. Especially Orihime and Tatsuki. They’ve been worried sick about you!”

“T-they have?” Tamiko stared at him, unable to believe what he was saying. “I-I thought...”

The weight slackened, Ichigo gently ruffling her hair. “I get it,” he said. “You’re still afraid about what those cowards in junior high did. Tamiko, our classmates are nothing like them. The fact that they went to so much trouble to cheer you up should be evidence of that.”

Everything he said made sense. No one in junior high would have done anything like this. Sending gifts. Visiting her. Dropping off homework along with notes and offers to help. Tamiko looked around the room, seeing the gifts for the first time. They really were meant to help her feel better and nothing more.

A Hollow’s presence shook the air. Tamiko swallowed, looking towards the window.

“What’s wrong, Tamiko?” Ichigo asked, hand moving to her forehead. “Are you feelin’ sick?”

Beeping emitted from Rukia’s skirt. She scrambled to pull out a flip cell phone. The rabbit charm swung as she flipped it open and pressed a button. “We need to go, Ichigo.”

“What? Now?” Ichigo scowled at her.

“Yes, now,” Rukia said. She bowed to Tamiko. “Please, get well soon.” With that she dashed out the door.

Ichigo sighed and turned back to Tamiko. “Sorry. Gotta go. Do you need me to send a nurse or something?”

“N-no, it’s ok,” Tamiko whispered, brows furrowing. What had been up with that phone? “I’m fine. Thank you, Ichigo.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” he said, straightening. “Feel better soon, Tamiko!” With a wave, he ran out of the room.

The instant the door banged behind him, a flood of memories washed over Tamiko. A Hollow. Machiko’s look of terror as it pierced her through the heart. Tamiko lifted off of the ground. And voices that belonged to Ichigo and Rukia.

“So it was a Hollow,” Tamiko whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hugged herself and sobbed. “It’s my fault that she died. That Hollow wanted to consume me.”

Somehow, Ichigo had saved her. He had wielded a giant sword. How could that be possible? What was he?


	3. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discharged from the hospital, Tamiko heads to her childhood home in Naruki City. There, she confronts her mother and faces the reality that Machiko truly is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

Her lungs were about to burst. Her heart pounded against her ribs. No matter how fast Tamiko ran, the Hollow stayed on her heels. She coughed, blood bursting out; she slipped and hit the concrete. A monstrous shadow bore down on her.

“At last, I found you,” the hollow said, long, sharp fingers lacing around her. “Your sweet smelling soul is finally mine.” It opened its mouth, ready to pop her in like a piece of candy.

“Drop her right now, you monster!” Machiko yelled.

The Hollow paused and looked down at her. “No way am I about to let go of this tasty prize. Get out of my way. You are of no interest to me.” He raised his free hand, pointing a finger directly at her chest.

“No! Run, Machiko!” Tamiko screamed, struggling to break free. “Please!”

Too late. The finger pierced through Machiko’s chest, straight into her heart. Her blood exploded. Her body dropped.

Her eyes popped open to complete darkness. Tamiko gasped, chest heaving. Tears poured down, dampening the pillow under her head. Where was the Hollow? Where was Machiko? Tamiko looked around for them, but she couldn’t see a soul.

Rain pattered against the window. The smell of disinfectant filled her nostrils. Safe. Inside the hospital. No Hollow. Ichigo had killed it. Machiko was dead. Reality was the true nightmare.

Tamiko covered her eyes with the palm of her hands. ‘Why me?’ she wondered. ‘Why did the Hollow want to eat me? Machiko. She just happened to be there.’

The shrill cry of a Hollow shook the hospital. A chinking followed, and Tamiko turned towards the window. Her heart raced.

Staring into the cracked glass was a creature straight out of a monster movie--a gigantic moth. Tamiko trembled, taking in the giant wings that spanned the window, wriggling feelers, and a white, skull-like mask. Slanted eyes glowed, casting an eerie green light. There, at the center of its chest, was a hole.

Run. Tamiko sprang up from the bed, one of the feelers stabbing the window. It exploded, raining shards of glass into the room. Reflexively, her arms shot out over her head. She winced, a sharp pain piercing her arm. A step back sent another pang through her foot. She cried, slamming into the floor.

What followed was a symphony of crashes. Every glass that was sitting on the coffee table exploded on the floor, the Hollow hovering ever closer to her.

Tamiko scrambled to get up and run. Another piece of glass met her hand. She hissed, fingers lacing around it. May not be an effective weapon, but it was all she had. Her vision doubled and blurred as she faced the Hollow.

A wriggling mass shot out towards her. Before she could react, the door burst open. Ichigo screamed, leaping over her. A giant sword swung, slicing the feelers. The Hollow screeched, sending several more in his direction. He dodged, landing on the bed; he lifted the blade to follow-up, but it snagged, embedding in the ceiling.

“Huh?” Ichigo looked up, yanking to try and free the sword. “Aw, crap! My blade’s stuck.” He grunted, the feelers finding their target. It sent him barreling through the bathroom door. His sword wrenched from his hands, coming free and landing on the bed.

“I-Ichigo!” Tamiko screamed. A groan answered her. She whirled around to face the Hollow, lifting the shard of glass. Every inch of her body trembled, goosebumps rising on her arms as more wriggling masses shot towards her.

A young woman shrieked. Black hair billowed out as she soared past Tamiko and slammed into the Hollow. The feelers jerked back as they crashed into the coffee table. It flailed against the young woman’s hold.

Tamiko squinted, fluttering wings blocking her view. She caught a glimpse of a chain attacked to the woman’s chest. It was the spirit in the window. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a similar style to...

“I won’t let you hurt her!” Machiko’s voice roared from the spirit. She glared towards the bathroom. “Come on, Ichigo! Get up and do your job already!”

There was another groan, and Ichigo staggered out. “I’m comin’!” he shouted, rubbing a large bump on his forehead.

He shook his head and dashed towards the bed, sandals crunching against glass; he snatched the sword. Machiko leaped away, and Ichigo brought it down on the Hollow, slicing it in two.

The clouds broke outside, moonlight streaming through broken glass and on the disintegrating Hollow. Ichigo let out a breath and returned the sword to its sheath. He stood within the light, dressed in a black shihakusho.

Machiko, on the other hand, looked perfect as always. Her light green jacket, gray pleated skirt, and blue-gray blouse she wore that day were unsoiled, as if she had just put them on that morning. Her only strange feature was that odd chain.

Brows creasing in worry, she rushed over to Tamiko. Crouching in front of her, she took her bleeding hand. “Oh, Tamiko. You’re injured.”

“Ma-Machiko!” Tamiko cried, throwing herself on her sister; the chain dug into her skin. Dizzy with pain, she clenched her eyes shut. “I thought I’d never see you again!” She coughed and gasped.

“Shhh, calm down,” Machiko soothed and pulled away. “Breathe.”

Tamiko deep breaths, clutching her chest. Machiko rubbed her back, and the pain eased.

“There now,” Machiko said. “Feeling better?”

“Little bit,” Tamiko whispered, giving a wan smile. “You’re really here. As a spirit, and I can see you.”

“I always knew you’d be able to. For years, your reiryoku has been growing. It was only a matter of time before you gained the ability to see the other side.”

“How do you know that?” Rukia interjected from the doorway. She looked as if she had just jumped out of bed with her feet bare and wearing a pair of pajamas. Arms crossed over her chest, brows furrowed. “Humans aren’t supposed to know about reiryoku or Hollows.”

Machiko shrugged. “I just know.”

Rukia glared. “If you know so much, then why did you stay bound to this world?” she asked. “You knew the risk, and yet, you allowed yourself to be a walking target. Not to mention putting your sister’s life in danger!”

“Hey! Go easy on her!” Ichigo yelled. “She stayed because she wanted to make sure her sister would be okay. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that Hollows are drawn to the two of them. It’s--”

“My fault!” Tamiko exclaimed. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “That Hollow was after me. I heard it. Why? I don’t have a lot of reiryoku, so why would it be interested in eating me?”

“I don’t know,” Rukia mumbled, looking at the floor. “The only time a Hollow specifically targets a person is if they were a close loved one. I’ve never seen one go after someone like that before.”

Tamiko sobbed, and Machiko pulled her close. “It’s alright,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault, because you had no idea that it was targeting you. And Kuchiki is right. If I stay, you’ll only be more at risk.”

“So, you’ll have to pass on? To heaven?”

Machiko smiled. “To the Soul Society.”

Rukia shook her head. “How? It’s unheard of for humans to know about the Soul Society.”

Ichigo crossed his arms and shrugged. “Could have learned about it like I did. Haven’t there been other Substitute Soul Reapers?” Rukia’s body stiffened, ignoring him. “Fine. Don’t answer.”

“So that’s what you are,” Tamiko said, getting another look at Ichigo. “You’re a ‘Substitute Soul Reaper.’ What is that? Has to involve fighting Hollows.”

The room went silent. Tamiko looked from Ichigo’s blank expression to Rukia’s perplexed one. A glance passed between the two of them, as if they were unsure how to answer.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Ichigo said, rubbing the back of his head. “You see...”

Briefly, he described the details of the night a “truck” crashed into his house. It had been a Hollow after all. Along with the tale came a short explanation of Soul Reapers and their jobs of protecting spirits from Hollows and helping them pass over to the Soul Society.

Tamiko tried not to laugh at Rukia’s illustrations of the event and Ichigo’s reaction to them. They were adorable and silly, destroying the somber atmosphere. It quickly returned when Tamiko realized what was about to happen.

“I guess that means you have to go now,” Tamiko said, looking at Machiko. “Ichigo is going to help you pass on.”

“Afraid so,” Machiko said with a half smile. “Because Kuchiki is right. The longer I stay in this world, the more danger you will be in. Time for me to go.”

Tears burst out, Tamiko taking a ragged breath. “B-but I don’t want to be alone! Father’s still in a coma. Mother doesn’t care. Without you, I don’t have anyone else!”

“You know that’s not true.” Machiko wiped away the tears. “Look around the room.”

The room was a disaster area. Bits of ceiling on the bed. Coffee table destroyed. All of the flowers and stuffed animals that had been on it now sat in puddles of water on the floor. Such a sight put a knife through her heart, but Tamiko knew that it wasn’t the gifts that were important. It was the people behind them.

“You have a lot of friends who care greatly for you, Tamiko. You aren’t going to be alone, I promise.”

“Yeah, you’ve got Chad, Orihime, Tatsuki, Rukia, and myself,” Ichigo said, counting with his fingers. “That’s five at least, so you’ll never be alone. And you know that I’ve got your back.”

Machiko smiled. “See, Tamiko. You have lots of friends. Please, make some good memories with them. That way, when Dad wakes up, you’ll be able to give him the biggest, brightest smile in the entire world. Think you can manage that?”

“I-I can try.” Tamiko took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Taking her index fingers, she pushed up on her cheeks to force herself to smile. “Like this?”

“Sort of.” Machiko chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll see each other again one day. After you’ve lived a long and happy life.”

Tamiko managed a small laugh. “Got it. I promise to live to be 100!”

She returned the embrace, pain exploding in her chest. Still she laughed and hugged Machiko tighter.

“I love you, Tamiko.” Machiko’s voice broke.

“I love you too.”

A light enveloped them. Tamiko pulled back to see Machiko’s beaming face. She leaned forward and kissed her forehead. The light grew blindingly bright, Tamiko squinting against it.

Machiko disappeared, a black swallowtail butterfly fluttering in her place. It lifted up and flew through the window, blending into the night.

Tamiko’s arms fell into her lap, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What just happened?” Ichigo asked, frantically looking around. “I hadn’t performed the konso yet, so...” He trailed off as voices and pounding feet could be heard in the hallway.

Rukia frowned, turning to face the door. She dug around in her pocket for something. “She passed on on her own.”

The pair of nurses appeared in the doorway, and Rukia held up what looked like a cigarette lighter and pressed a button. A little bird on a spring popped out, and smoke covered the nurses’ faces. They hit the floor.

“H-hey, what did you do to them?” Tamiko asked, eyes wide. A memory came back, and her shoulders lowered. “Wait. That’s what you did to me, isn’t it?”

Slipping the device back into her pocket, Rukia nodded. “It replaces memories. When they wake up, they’ll remember something completely different than what actually occurred. Just go along with whatever they say.”

“I’m sure if I told them the truth, they’d order a CT scan.” Tamiko giggled, but it halted. “Replaces? It doesn’t wipe memories completely?”

“No. Why?”

Tamiko flexed her hand, wincing and looking at the blood dripping from it. “N-never mind. Just that I can remember everything that happened with the Hollow. How Ichigo saved me. Why did my memories return to normal?”

“I am not sure. To be honest, everything about you and your sister has me baffled.” Rukia’s brows knitted together. Her head snapped up when the nurses mumbled incoherently. “We better go before they wake up or someone else comes to investigate.”

“Good idea.” Ichigo headed towards the door.

“Wait, Ichigo,” Tamiko whispered, and he looked at her. “Thank you. For saving my life and helping Machiko.”

“Hey, don’t think on it.” Ichigo grinned. “All part of the job of being a Substitute Soul Reaper. Didn’t I say I’d protect you?”

“Yeah, from bullies. Not giant, skull-faced monsters.”

Ichigo shrugged. “Same thing.”

The night didn’t end with Ichigo and Rukia’s departure. Once the nurses were up, they were hovering over Tamiko and inspecting every new injury on her. Their explanation for what happened: a windstorm. An extremely coincidental, pattern-defying windstorm.

As soon as the wounds were treated, they moved her and her things into a new room. The sky was lighting up by the time everything settled down enough for her to go back to sleep.

It was cut short when a rapping hit the door. Tamiko blinked sleepily at Dr. Ishida walking into the room with her chart. He set it on the stool and pushed them to the bed. After washing his hands, he leaned over her.

“You certainly had an exciting night,” he said, undoing the bandage on her foot. “That must have been on terrifying storm.”

She responded with a yawn. “That is one way to describe it,” she said, watching him apply a fresh bandage and move on to the wound on her hand. “Not everyday a windstorm destroys an entire hospital room.”

Dr. Ishida’s eyes met hers. “It is not as uncommon as you may think,” he said. He finished looking her over and sat down to write something down. “Thankfully, these new injuries are minor. It should only take a few days for them to heal.”

Tamiko watched him, wondering how much he knew about what truly happened. There was no way he bought the nurses’ story.

“You are healing quickly,” Dr. Ishida said, nodding towards the incision on her chest. “Those stitches should be ready to come out a week from Saturday. How are you feeling? Any trouble breathing or excessive pain?”

“No.” Tamiko yawned again. “Just sleepy.”

“I suspect so.” Dr. Ishida collected her chart and returned the stool to its place under the sink. “Oh, I spoke with your mother last night. She will be sending a car for you when you are discharged.”

“A car?” Tamiko propped herself up on her elbows, wincing.

“Yes, your mother wants you home to rest for a week or so. While you are healing quickly, it will take another three or four weeks for you to be fully healed. You are to rest and take it easy until then.” With that, Dr. Ishida left.

Tamiko sighed and lay back down, closing her eyes. ‘Home,’ she thought. At least she wouldn’t be returning to that empty apartment anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Throughout the next week, Tamiko divided her time between homework, reading, playing video games, and visiting her father. At least an hour a day was devoted to talking to him. It took nearly the whole week, but she managed to tell him everything that has happened since she saw him last.

“And now you have someone waiting for you on both sides,” Tamiko said, beaming at him. “Machiko in the Soul Society and me here. If you can believe any of this, anyway.”

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t sense an ounce of reiryoku inside his body. She couldn’t be sure if he didn’t have any or if the coma had an adverse effect. Maybe that was a question for Rukia.

“Tamiko,” the nurse’s soft voice said, the door opening. “Your friends are here to see you. Do you want to meet them in your room or the lounge?”

“Lounge,” Tamiko promptly answered. She waved to Syun. “Have to go, Daddy. Hey, if you wake up, you could meet a couple of my new friends right now. Come on. You can’t possibly pass up this deal!”

A minute ticked by, and there wasn’t so much as a twitch. Tamiko shrugged and laughed, hugging the stuffed lion to her chest. While the nurse held the door, she walked out and headed to the lounge.

It was a large room with several round tables, a long couch, and vending machines. Tatsuki and Orihime waited at a table, and Tamiko joined them.

Every afternoon, they visited Tamiko, bearing homework and snacks. Hours were burned chatting about school or whatever random tangent Orihime would go on.

“Man, you should have seen their faces when I knocked down that big guy at practice yesterday,” Tatsuki said, slamming her fist into the palm of her hand and grinning. “He was a third year with ridiculous muscles too. Boy, were they shocked!”

Tamiko smiled. “Their chins must have hit the floor.”

“They did. One guy nearly passed out. It was totally awesome.”

“Wow, you’re amazing, Tatsuki.” Orihime beamed. “You’re bound to do well in the tournament this summer!”

“Think so?” Tatsuki frowned, poking at one of the cookies they brought.

Laughter burst forth, Tamiko hugging the lion tighter. She shook her head. “Nah, we don’t think so. We know so. You’ll clobber them, Tatsuki. No doubt.”

Cheeks flushing pink, Tatsuki rubbed the back of her head. “Awha, thanks guys.”

Tamiko leaned back to take a few deep breaths. Pain rippled through her chest from laughing so hard. She felt almost like her old self again, but then pain and exhaustion would hit. A reminder of what has happened.

Orihime frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling, Tamiko? Are you still in pain?”

“It’s gotten loads better. I guess the breathing exercises have helped a lot.” Tamiko paused, looking at the stuffed animal; she held it up. “Oh, and these guys too!”

Eyes lit up. “That’s great,” Orihime said. “I’m so glad that you’re feeling better.”

“Definitely.” Tatsuki grinned. “So when are they gonna let you outta of this place? You’ve been here almost three weeks.”

“Sunday.” Tamiko leaned forward, returning their smiles. “The stitches are coming out on Sunday. Except. I’m going home. Back to Naruki City.”

“That sounds exciting!” Orihime bubbled. “I didn’t know you were living away from home. I bet it’ll be nice to be back with your family for a while.”

Tamiko’s hold tightened on the stuffed animal. “Y-yeah. It’ll be nice.”

A few days later, everything was packed up and loaded into the back of a car. Tamiko had chosen to keep only a select few of the stuffed animals: Orihime’s bear and one of the cats, Michiru’s dog, Chad’s lion, Uryu’s red panda, and Rukia’s rabbit. They were all placed within the box Orihime had used. Aside from a few waterlogged ones, the rest were donated to the children’s ward.

The drive to the Kimura home in Naruki City took a good forty-five minutes. It was spent in silence, the driver focused on the road and Tamiko playing a video game.

They arrived in the driveway of an average two-story house. The garden, however, was anything but. It lay behind the house, containing massive trees that towered over it.

Upstairs, Tamiko stepped into her bedroom. It was as if she had never left it. Nothing was out of place, no dust or debris can be seen. The housekeeper must have cleaned it that morning.

After everything was unpacked and put away, Tamiko headed out to the garden.

Water burbled and splashed. The deer scare clapped. Birds sang within the tree branches. Tamiko took a deep breath. The perfume of irises, peonies, bellflowers, chrysanthemums, and lilies tickled her nose.

Beside the koi pond, she crouched. “Good afternoon! Who’s hungry?” Bright orange and red fish gathered before her, mouths flopping. Her chest ached with laughter; she pulled out a small sack from her pocket. “Right, stupid question. Everyone is. Don’t worry, I’ve got your food right here.”

Every piece of food tossed to the fish was greedily gobbled up. A handful landed in the center of the pond, and they raced each other for it. When the sack was empty, Tamiko pocketed it, waved to the fish, and walked away.

Her next destination was a small shrine in the heart of the garden. Tamiko stepped inside, heart stopping at the new tombstone beside her grandparents’. She swallowed, reading it, ‘Machiko Kimura. Born: September 19th, 1983. Died: May 13th, 2001.’

Tamiko snapped towards the other tombstone. Only the name “Kimura” was etched there. No dates of birth or death. Not even their remains were housed there. Her grandparents were shrouded in mystery. The only thing Tamiko knew about them was that they had died honorable deaths long ago.

Putting her hands together, Tamiko bowed her head. “Please, watch over Machiko in the Soul Society. Don’t let her be lonely.”

Tears threatened to burst forth, but they didn’t. Tamiko lifted her head and stared at the memorials. She gave them one last bow before bolting from the shrine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was eaten in silence, Tamiko at last face to face with her mother. Staring at her was like looking 20 years into the future. Tamiko was her mirror image, but there was another notable difference: No spirit energy could be sensed from Chiyo Kimura.

When the dishes were cleared away, Chiyo looked directly at Tamiko. Her glasses were perched on the tip of her nose, an intimidating look. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal together. How are you feeling?”

Tamiko clenched her fists. “How do you think I feel?” she asked, heart pounding. “Machiko died, and I spent three weeks in the hospital without a phone call or visit from you.”

Chiyo narrowed her eyes. “I am well aware of what happened,” she said. “I sent you a bouquet. It should have been in your room by the time they took you up.”

The yellow and pink flowers. Tamiko shook her head, glaring. “Don’t think that can make up for it. Anyone with half a heart would have taken off work the moment they heard their children were in a fatal accident. What would Daddy say about it? You cold, heartless--”

Within a second, Chiyo stood beside Tamiko. She flung her hand across Tamiko’s face, snapping her head to face the wall.

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone of voice,” Chiyo commanded. “You honestly believe I’m not heartbroken over this? I am, but life goes on. The death of a loved one does not absolve someone of their responsibilities, and mine is to earn money that supports you and your father.”

Tears burned, but they refused to fall. Tamiko hung her head. All words of argument disappeared in thin air.

“That includes you, Tamiko,” Chiyo resumed, pushing up her glasses with the palm of her hand. “I spoke to your school and they agreed to waive your midterms on the condition that you keep up with your classes and score within the top 10 on your finals. They want you to attend summer school, if you cannot do so. However, I have my own stipulation. If you cannot handle school and living on your own, you will return here and transfer to a school of my choosing. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mother,” Tamiko whispered, putting a hand on her cheek. She flinched when Chiyo reached towards her.

Sighing, Chiyo retreated her hand. “There is one last thing,” she said. “I already had Machiko’s body cremated. We’ll be holding a wake for her the day after tomorrow. You may invite two friends, if you wish.” She strode out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the study, all of the furniture was removed to make room for the service. With a heaviness in her chest, Tamiko set the altar. Machiko’s photo placed between two candles. The plate and bowl for food offerings went in front of them. Finally, the urn was lowered down beside the picture.

Tamiko lifted her trembling hands away. Those were her sister’s remains. Bones buried within a pile of ashes. A numbness consumed her. ‘Machiko’s dead, but she isn’t. I know that she isn’t. Is that why I can’t cry?’

For the rest of the day, Tamiko racked her brain for who to invite to the wake. Her first thought went to Orihime and Tatsuki, but she realized that she didn’t have either of their numbers. There was only one number she knew, so she dialed.

A minute of ringing passed before a soft voice answered, “Hello, Kurosaki residence.”

“Y-yes, hello,” Tamiko said. “Is Ichi--” A high-pitched squeal cut her off, repelling the phone from her ear.

“Are you really calling for my brother?” the girl asked excitedly. “Hey! There’s a girl calling for Ichigo!”

“What!? Let me have the phone, Yuzu!” a deep voice shouted followed by a brief pause. “Hello, this is Ichigo’s father. So you and my son, huh? Tell me. Have the two of you made ou--Grawh!” There came a thud.

“Don’t be creepy, Dad!” a new voice yelled; she sighed. “Listen, let me warn you about this family. You see...”

So they were Ichigo’s family. All three spoke at once, not giving Tamiko a chance to get a word in edgewise. Even though they were bickering, she got a sense of how much they cared for each other. A jealous pang squeezed her heart.

“Hey! What’s with all the racket down there?” Ichigo’s voice bellowed. “I’m trying to do my homework.”

Yuzu giggled. “You have a phone call, Ichigo. It’s a girl!”

“Then why didn’t you come and get me? You know, a normal family would have just set the phone down and went about their business. Now could I please have some privacy!?” Sounds of running feet faded, and Ichigo sighed. “Sorry about that. My family tends to get crazy over this kinda stuff. So who’s this?”

“It’s okay, Ichigo.” Tamiko let out a nervous laugh. “They seem like fun. Oh, and it’s Tamiko.”

“Tamiko?” Ichigo repeated. “Right. Orihime had mentioned that you’d be released soon. How are you doing?”

“Much better.” Tamiko tugged at the cord. “Just...”

“Is something wrong?”

Tamiko bit her lip. “I don’t know. Tomorrow, we’re having Machiko’s wake.”

“Didn’t Machiko die over three weeks ago?” Ichigo asked. “Isn’t that a bit long to wait for a funeral?”

“Actually,” Tamiko whispered, “Machiko’s body was cremated while I was in the hospital. I guess Mother decided to postpone the wake until after I was out.”

There was a moment of silence. “She wanted to give you the chance to say goodbye,” Ichigo said.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that I already have,” Tamiko said. “What bothers me is that I haven’t cried. Not once since the night Machiko passed on. I guess because I’ve already mourned her?”

“Perhaps.” Ichigo’s voice sounded warm, reassuring. “Since you know where she went, it might make a difference. Rukia says that the Soul Society is a wonderful place. Machiko’s probably doing fine.”

“If she’s with our grandparents, then yeah.” Tamiko looked up at the ceiling, hope fluttering through her heart. “They died long before we were born. Machiko’s bound to be learning all sorts of things about our family as we speak. Makes me a little jealous.”

“You bet she is,” Ichigo said. “Wasn’t there something that you needed?”

Tamiko nodded, but bust out laughing when she realized he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, my mother said I could invite a couple of friends to the wake. Would you and Rukia consider coming? It’ll be at 5 in the evening, so you’d have plenty of time to get over here after school. U-unless you’re too busy or something.”

“Nah, we’ll be there. You can count on us, Tamiko!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour before the service, the first guest arrived, a young woman with black hair pulled up in a thick, french style bun. She wore a simple black dress. Red rimmed her blue eyes.

“Welcome to our home,” Chiyo said, and Tamiko bowed stiffly alongside her. “You’re one of Machiko’s friends?”

“I am,” the young woman said softly. “Machiko had helped me get through my father’s passing. She was a wonderful friend.” Her voice broke.

Tamiko looked away when a fresh tear appeared in the woman’s eye.

More people began to arrive. A handful of them looked familiar, Tamiko having seen them with Machiko. Others were complete strangers, older. Must be her teachers or friends from university.

One such person strode in, a young man with long black hair. He bowed to Chiyo and Tamiko. In a calm, deep voice, he said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“T-thank you.” Tamiko studied him, noticing a scar beside his left eye. “You were a classmate of Machiko’s?”

“At the university,” he said, straightening. “A lovely person. Apparently I am not the only one to think so, judging by the number of guests in attendance. You must miss her.”

“Yes. I do.”

The young man gave her a soft look that sent her heart to flutter. Tamiko blushed, eyes darting away. When he sauntered into the office, she watched him. A spark of reiatsu was left in his wake, and the scent of old books lingered in the air.

Not long after, Ichigo and Rukia arrived. Chiyo stiffened and narrowed her eyes while she bowed. “Welcome to our home. Thank you for coming.”

“Thanks,” Ichigo said, bowing back. “Sorry for your loss.”

Rukia murmured the same thing and bowed as well. Chiyo watched them closely until they disappeared into the office, eyes cold and calculating.

‘Of course she wouldn’t like my friends,’ Tamiko thought, sighing. ‘Because of Ichigo’s hair or that his shirt isn’t tucked in? Who cares? At least he’s wearing black.’

Throughout the service, Tamiko kept her eyes glued to the floor. Her kimono bunched into her fists while the priest praised Machiko’s accomplishments and lamented the loss of such a bright young woman.

Quiet sobs drifted around the room afterwards. Tamiko glanced up and saw several of Machiko’s friends with handkerchiefs pressed against their mouths. The young woman from before was staring at Tamiko. She took a shuddering breath, a fresh burst of tears falling.

The sight shattered Tamiko’s heart. Breath caught in her throat, chest throbbing. Sweat broke out and tears burned. With a strangled cry, she leaped up and dashed out of the room, leaving behind a cacophony of concerned whispers and mutters.

‘My fault. All my fault.’ The words racing through her mind, Tamiko tore through the house and out into the garden. She didn’t stop until she was at the base of a large red pine tree. Pressing her back against it, she slid and brought her knees to her chest. ‘They will never see Machiko again because of me. I took her from them.’

Aches flared up, but she didn’t care. Tamiko shook with sobs, burrowing her face deep within her arms.

The flare of reiatsu approached her, and she peeked out to see Ichigo’s blurry face leveling with hers. He gently laid a hand on her head. “I’m sorry, Tamiko. I should have gotten there sooner.”

“N-no.” Tamiko shook her head and took a shuddering breath. “It’s not--I mean. That Hollow was going to eat me, and I knew it was there. I should have known it was after me. If I had...”

“And what?” Ichigo asked, scowling. “Fight the Hollow yourself? No, the blame lies squarely on my shoulders. It was my job to protect you and Machiko, and I failed.”

“B-but.” Tamiko coughed.

Ichigo’s scowl turned into a glare. “No. I won’t let you blame yourself, and I won’t hear another word of argument about it.”

“A-alright.” Tamiko buried her face back into her arms. The tears refused to stop, despite him shouldering the burden. He stayed by her side, not saying another word.

No words were spoken about what happened at the wake for two whole days. Each night at dinner, Tamiko sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for her mother to bring the subject up.

Over tea one evening, Chiyo said, “I am not sure I approve of your choice of friends, Tamiko.”

“Why? Is it because Ichigo dresses like a punk?” Tamiko asked, leaning back.

“Partly.” Chiyo pushed up her glasses and sipped her tea. “A young man like him is bound to get you into trouble. Besides, shouldn’t you be friends with girls your age?”

“What about Kuchiki? She’s a girl my age.”

Chiyo finished her tea, setting the cup down with a clink. “I would think by now you would know when someone is lying to you.”

“H-huh?” Tamiko blinked.

“A facade.” Chiyo crossed her arms, leaning back. “That is all her politeness is. She’s holding a lot of secrets, ones that would cause you harm if you got too close. Do you want another incident like junior high?”

Tamiko’s muscles seized up, heart pounding. “I don’t think Kuchiki would do anything like that,” she said, voice small. “And Ichigo’s not the type to cause trouble. More like it follows him around.”

“Be that as it may, I would have expected you to know how to choose your friends more carefully.” Chiyo stood and headed for the door. “Don’t come crying to me if you get hurt again. You’re on your own, Tamiko.”

Tamiko stared at her full tea cup, trembling. Could she really be setting herself up to get hurt again? Would Rukia...?

‘No, because Kuchiki is friends with Ichigo,’ Tamiko thought, lifting her head. ‘He wouldn’t be friends with someone dangerous. Kuchiki is a good person. That’s a fact.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The empty apartment stood before her. A thin layer of dust covered every surface, the air musty and stale. The silence was deafening. Tamiko put her back against the door and slid down. She sobbed.

A ringing emitted from the kitchen. Tamiko jumped, eyes wide. The phone rang a few more times before the answering machine picked it up.

“This is Machiko,” Machiko’s voice greeted softly, and Tamiko let out a shuddering breath.

“And Tamiko too!” her voice chimed.

Together, they said, “Please leave a message after the beep!”

It beeped, and a cheery voice rang out, “Hello, Tamiko! I hope you are doing well. If you got some time, why not pop in at the shop? I’ve got a little something for you.” There was a click and a couple of beeps as Urahara hung up.

For several minutes, Tamiko sat and stared at her luggage, wondering what he had for her. She sighed. Mechanically, she stood and began unpacking her things. It took several trips, but she managed to get everything stashed away.

When she came out of her room, she hesitated in the hallway. Turning towards Machiko’s bedroom, she expected more tears, but none came. Instead, her heart quickened. It became difficult to breathe. She dashed back down the stairs.

Outside, Tamiko put her hands on her knees, gulping deep breaths of warm air. When her heart slowed, she began the walk to the Urahara Shop. She took her time, having no desire to return to the apartment anytime soon.

There was something odd about the shop. No yelling from Jinta and Ururu, who would normally be out sweeping. They were nowhere to be seen in the yard. Could they be inside?

Tamiko slid open the door, but the store was empty as well. Their shoes were gone, so they must have went out. Why was the store left open, though? Chills went down her spine, but she stepped inside.

Something yanked at her mind while she looked around, almost as if she was trying to remember something. What could it be, though? It was possible she may still be missing memories from the day Machiko died. Tamiko turned, trying to find anything that would trigger the memory. Nothing. She sighed and continued wandering around.

She found herself back in the dark hallway, inching her way towards the storeroom. A shiver shook her body when she stepped inside.

Boxes lined the shelves on the walls, a few sitting on the floor underneath. ‘That’s right,’ Tamiko thought, approaching one that stuck out further than the rest. ‘I saw a strange box. It couldn’t still be here.’

Crouching, she leaned in to get a better look. On top of the box was a stamp reading, “Processed by the SRDI.” Tamiko brushed her fingers against it, wondering at what the acronym stood for.

Tamiko leaned, writing on the side catching her eye. Her brows furrowed at it, not able to understand why it surprised her. It read, “Defective Goods,” and underneath was a sticker, “Dispose of Immediately.”

“Defective?” Tamiko whispered. “What kind of a businessman orders defective goods?”

Faint voices reached her ears, and she whirled around to stare out the door. When they came again, she recognized them as Jinta and Ururu. Reflexively, Tamiko shoved the box away from her.

“Oh, dear,” Urahara said. “Hey, who left the store open?”

“It was Ururu’s turn to lock up this time,” Jinta said.

“N-no it wasn’t,” Ururu protested. “It was your turn, Jinta. Remember?”

“Don’t be so stupid. It was totally your turn!” Jinta yelled. “Now there’s probably a dirty burglar in there making off with all the cash and merchandise.”

“Alright knock it off, you two,” Urahara said. “I’m sure that no one’s in there, but I’ll go have a look while you two stay here with Tessai.”

Heart banging, Tamiko frantically searched for a window or another door to escape through. There weren’t any. Urahara’s clacking sandals grew louder, and she dove under the shelf, wedging herself between the boxes.

‘Good thing I’m small,’ she thought, trembling. ‘But how am I going to get out of here? Wait until everyone goes to bed. That’s like 10 hours away!’ Last thing she wanted to do was huddle on a dirt floor all day.

The clacking stopped, and she saw Urahara’s feet in the doorway. She drew in quiet, shallow breaths to keep from making too much noise. An ache welled up in her chest.

Urahara stepped further into the room before pausing again. His feet turned, and the ache in her chest grew. Just as Urahara took a step towards the door, she coughed. He crouched, coming face to face with her. His eyes bugged out.

“Tamiko? How did you get there? I don’t remember you coming in with today’s shipments.” His face lit up. “Ah, so you’re the dirty burglar. Not enough for you to blackmail candy from me, eh?”

“N-no! Of course not! I just--” Tamiko coughed again, covering her mouth.

The eyes softened. “Now, now. Let’s get you out from under there,” Urahara said, holding out a hand. “Breathing in all of that dust can’t be good for you.”

One hand stayed over her mouth while the other took his hand. He pulled her out and set her back on her feet without so much as a grunt. Gently, he swiped the dirt off of her shoulders.

“Leaving the door unlocked is like begging a thief to come striding in,” Tamiko remarked, giving him a half grin. “Like taking candy from a baby, in that case.”

“Ah, you would know,” Urahara said, opening his fan and returning the look. “So which candy were you hoping to pilfer? The vanilla toffees? Or perhaps you had a bigger score in mind? Some giant lollipops?”

“Whatever I could get my dirty mitts on.” Tamiko cackled, holding her hands up. One quickly went back to her mouth as she coughed twice in quick succession.

Urahara frowned, patting her back. “Let’s get you out of this musty storeroom. You can get those dirty mitts washed, and I’ll ask Tessai to get you some tea. Are you hungry? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind preparing you anything you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t want him to go to any trouble,” Tamiko blurted out. Her stomach growled, and she blushed.

“Sure sounds like your stomach does.” The grin spread back across Urahara’s face before it was concealed behind his fan.

A few minutes later, Tamiko sat on a cushion across from him, a round table between them. She studied him as he fanned himself, trying to sense if he had any reiryoku. None. It was hard to believe, but he seemed perfectly normal in that regard.

“What’s with that look, Tamiko?” he asked and smirked. “Have you finally realized how devilishly handsome I am?”

A snort followed by a laugh. Tamiko waved her hand. “Unlikely. Sorry, but I’m not into old men.”

“Yes, I suppose you would go for someone closer to your age,” Urahara said, not phased by her comment. “Anyone at school catch your eye?”

“Like I’m going to reveal my love life to my sister’s boss.” Tamiko rolled her eyes, smiling. It faded. She looked down, tears stinging her eyes. “I guess you aren’t actually her boss anymore. I-I...”

Right. She wasn’t supposed to be blaming herself.

“Tamiko,” Urahara said softly; she glanced at him, and his eyes grew serious. “I am deeply sorry for what happened to Machiko. She was a wonderful person and a model employee. We all miss her greatly.” His eyes disappeared under his hat as he dug around in his shihakusho.

Two envelopes appeared and pushed towards her. “Here is Machiko’s pay from last and this month. No candy was deducted from either of them. There should be more than enough to cover your needs until you’ve fully recovered from your injuries.”

“I couldn’t,” Tamiko whispered, looking between him and the envelopes. “I should...”

Urahara held up a hand. “Really, Tamiko. It’s the least I can do, given the circumstances. If you truly feel the desire to pay me back, then consider helping us out around the shop every now and again. We could always use an extra pair of hands. Even dirty ones.” He grinned.

“Okay, but you have to pay me in candy every once in a while.” She managed a wan smile, taking the envelopes into her lap.

“Deal.” They shook on it.

Tessai arrived with food and tea. The sight caused Tamiko’s stomach to growl again. The moment a platter of cookies was set down, she snatched one and shoved it into her mouth, forgoing all manners.

“Now, now,” Urahara said, blinking. “Those cookies aren’t going to grow legs and run away from you, so there’s no need to scarf them down.” He smiled as she grabbed another and ate it slowly.

An hour later, the empty apartment stood before her once more. Tamiko looked at the envelopes in her hand. At least she had a way to support herself for a while. With her mother handling the rent, she could stay for at least three months. After that...

Tamiko sighed and dropped Machiko’s paychecks on the coffee table. There was no energy left to think about that now. She dragged herself up the stairs and collapsed on the bed.

‘Tomorrow,’ she thought. ‘I’ll worry about everything tomorrow.’


	4. Lonely Souls, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamiko faces the first days of living alone. In order to regain so sense of normalcy, she returns to school and finds a warm welcome from everyone except two people: Uryu and Rukia. One is angry and the other sad, but Tamiko knows that both are just as lonely as she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

Silence draped over her. It was odd. Tamiko knitted her brows, eyes fluttering open. She discovered herself on top of the covers instead of underneath, still fully clothed in a graphic tee and shorts. Sunlight streamed in through the window.

The clock showed 8:45 AM, a whole hour after she would normally wake up. Her head flopped back down. Morning, and no alarm to awaken her. No smells of breakfast came from the kitchen. For the first time in her life, Tamiko was on her own.

While laying there, coughs surged up from deep within her lungs. She grabbed the nearest stuffed animal--Uryu’s red panda--and hugged it to her chest. Upon looking at the nightstand, she discovered that it was covered in dust like everything else.

‘I need to clean up,’ she thought.

For the entire morning, she vacuumed, scrubbed, and dusted almost every inch of the apartment. Several coughing fits, breaks, and naps prolonged her progress.

When she opened the fridge, a horrible smell wafted out; she slammed the door. Taking and holding a deep breath, she peeked again. Everything was covered in ugly greens and blues, and she swore she could see mushrooms growing along the side of the fridge. It all went into the dumpster with a brief prayer.

At last, she came to Machiko’s door, armed with cleaning supplies. Tamiko shakily reached for the doorknob, fingers brushing metal. They refused to wrap around it. The supplies tumbled and clattered to the floor, and she rocketed into her room.

Grabbing the red panda once again, she collapsed on her bed. She hugged the toy to her chest in a flurry of sobs. When the pain became unbearable and the tears stopped, she looked at the clock. Nearly four in the afternoon, the time having slipped away from her.

A gnawing ache overcame her stomach, followed by a series of growls. Her arms tightened around the stuffed animal, thinking, ‘I guess I didn’t eat anything today. I just expected food to be set in front of me. How selfish.’

When the ache arose once more, she headed to the kitchen. After flinging every cabinet open, all she could find was cooking oil, sugar, flour, tea leaves, and some canned broth. The freezer only yielded icicle ridden ice cream. She pressed her forehead against the freezer door, the image of food soaking in pooled blood in her mind. Despite the image, her stomach growled again.

So a quick shower and change of clothes later, she snatched one of Urahara’s envelopes and began the journey to the supermarket.

The sun felt hot. She wiped sweat off her forehead and licked her lips. An ache went through her head, and she rubbed her eyes with her palms. ‘I may have overdone it, but I need food.’

Around the corner laid Hirohyaku Supermarket, a simple building with a pay phone on one side of the door and a bench on the other. When it came into view, Tamiko froze. Her heart thudded, resonating with the pounding in her head. No evidence remained of the Hollow attack. No strewn about groceries. No splatters of blood. People walked by, entering and leaving the store as if nothing of significance ever occurred there.

Her eyes felt heavy, but no tears fell. Tamiko resumed walking, vision wavering; she rubbed both eyes again. When she removed her hands, she saw a shimmering mass standing before her. A shriek echoed up her throat, causing everyone to stop and stare. Her knees buckled and pounded against the concrete.

Reiryoku drew closer. The scent of rain tickled her nose. Out of the corner of her eye, Uryu crouched beside her. His hand pressed against her forehead before he draped an arm over her shoulders. She was lifted up and half carried, half dragged over to the bench.

He laid her on the warm, hard surface, placing his messenger bag under her head. He then lifted it up, tilting a bottle of water against her lips.

“Drink,” he said, and she greedily sucked down the water. “Not so fast!”

She took smaller sips until he pulled the bottle away and lowered her head onto something soft but firm. She stared blankly as he dampened a cloth with what was left in the bottle and set it on her forehead. “W-what happened?”

“You nearly passed out,” he said, scowling at her. “What were you doing walking around like this?”

“Getting groceries. There isn’t any food at home.” On cue, her stomach grumbled. She jerked away, covering it with her arms.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday afternoon. I had some cookies.”

“Cookies.” His voice was heavy with disbelief. “That’s seriously all you’ve had to eat within the last 24 hours?”

Another grumbling resounded, and she held her stomach tighter in an attempt to muffle it. “Yeah. Well, I came home and immediately passed out. I must have slept 15 hours straight, because it was morning when I woke up. I wasn’t hungry, so I cleaned the apartment. That took all day, because I kept coughing and needing to rest.”

While she rambled, he expelled an exasperated sigh to rival his father’s. “And you didn’t think to get food during those rest times?”

“Didn’t feel hungry.” She glanced back to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll get you something to eat.” He turned towards the supermarket.

“H-hold on,” she said, propping herself on an elbow. The cloth landed on the bench with a splat as she held her swimming head. “I should get it myself.”

His hand fell on her shoulder, light pressure pushing her back down onto his messenger back. “Lie down and rest. Otherwise, you’ll pass out and be taken back to the hospital. Now, is there anything I should know about? Any food allergies?”

She looked away. “Kind of,” she whispered. “There’s sushi. Not allergic to it, but it’s disgusting. I’m allergic to garlic, though. If I eat that, I’ll--”

“Please, spare the details,” he said, cutting her off. “Rest assured, I won’t get anything with those ingredients.” With that, he strode away.

“Hang on!” she called after, reaching for her pocket with the envelope. She sat up, wincing from the ache in her head.

Uryu must not have heard. He disappeared into the supermarket without so much as a glance back.

She sighed and flopped back down; she winced, feeling certain that she bruised something against the bench’s hard surface. Not only that, but something jabbed her in the back of the neck--probably one of his school books. Curling up on her side, she closed her eyes.

For several minutes, she listened to the people walking by. No one seemed to bother her. At least, until there was a light tap on her shoulder followed by Uryu saying, “Kimura.”

Yawning, Tamiko blinked and rubbed her eyes. She could have sworn it had only been a short time since he had left, but there he was with an arm wrapped around a paper sack. “D-did I fall asleep?”

His eyes softened. They returned to their usual scowl as he dug in the bag and pulled out a package containing three round rice balls. “I have food for you. Here’s something for you to eat now and a few things to tide you over until you’re feeling better. All garlic and sushi free.”

She blinked, stiffly sitting up. “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble,” she said, shaking the fog from her head. She reached into her pocket for the envelope. “At least let me pay you back.”

“No need,” he said, thrusting the package at her. “It was no trouble at all. Now, eat.”

As she took it from him, glittering caught her eye. A cross swung from his right wrist. She watched it the entire time he set the bag of groceries down and picked up his bag. He sat down beside her, and she quickly looked away.

For a moment, she stared at the rice balls. Her stomach growled, and she tore away the wrapping. Taking a big bite, the taste of pickled plum filled her mouth. A sigh of relief escaped when the bite hit her stomach.

Uryu didn’t say a word while she ate. He sat and looked off into the distance, his eyes their usual intensity. Every so often, he glanced at her, and she would look away again. The moment she finished the last rice ball, he turned and asked, “Are you feeling better?”

“A bit.” She stared at the few remaining grains, resisting the temptation to eat every last one. “Thank you, Ishida.”

“Don’t mention it.” He pushed up his glasses and stood. “I will walk you home.”

“I can walk by myself,” she said, head snapping up. 

“While that may be true, there is no honor in forcing a young woman to walk home alone. Especially one in your condition.”

He held out his hand to her. She took it. After making sure she stood steady, he scooped up the bag of groceries and gestured for her to lead the way.

The packaging fell into the garbage, and Tamiko headed in the direction of her apartment. Glittering caught her eye again, and she resumed staring at the cross.

A grin spread across her face. “You know, you didn’t strike me as the type of guy to wear jewelry. Pretty bold of you.”

“J-jewelry!?” Uryu froze mid step; she blinked, smile disappearing at the anger etched on his face. “It isn’t jewelry, but a sacred family heirloom.”

“That explains the reiryoku surrounding it,” she said, leaning closer to get a better look at it.

He took a step back. “How do you know what reiryoku is?”

“I just know.” She put her hands behind her head, the grin growing.

He shook his head in response. “So how does my cross being an heirloom explain the reiryoku around it?”

“You and your father have a lot,” she said, “so it makes sense that a family heirloom would be surrounded with it.”

“Leave Ryuken out of this. That makes sense to you?”

Giggles shook her chest, sending aches through it. “Yeah, but why would you want to carry something dripping with reiryoku? That would only attract Hollows, and you’re already enough to make any one of them drool.”

A glare on his glasses concealed his eyes. “Not an elegant way to put it, but yes,” he said. “It would attract Hollows to me, if any were nearby. Why would I want to do that?”

“Someone as intelligent as you actively luring Hollows? I can only think of one logical reason. To kill.” She looked him directly in the eye.

“Perceptive. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Then what are you? A Soul Reaper?” She flinched at the low growl reverberating in his throat.

“I am nothing like them,” he said, voice cold and sharp. He stepped towards her until they stood side by side. “I am a Quincy, one who protects spirits from monsters.”

“Isn’t that what--” The dark glare in his eyes cut her off. She swallowed.

He turned the glare towards something in the distance. “I am different from Kurosaki and Kuchiki. I am a Quincy who shows no mercy towards Hollows. The last in existence.”

Tamiko blinked. “But your fath--”

Again, Uryu’s dark look cut her off. “Ryuken has rejected the Quincy ways. All because it isn’t profitable. That makes me the last one.”

The way he said that last sentence shattered her heart. His tone of voice didn’t change, but his eyes did, gaining the look one would get if they were going to cry. No tears came. She looked down, shoulders slumping.

“Come on.” He resumed walking. “We need to get you home. You aren’t looking too good.”

No more words passed between them the rest of the way. At the door, Uryu handed the sack to her. It had some heft to it, but not enough to strain her.

“I got you things that are easy and quick to prepare,” he said. “Instant curries and ramen. There’s also rice, vegetable stock, and a few fruits and vegetables. If you’re careful, it should last you over a week.”

She stuck her head into the bag. A pair of small containers sat on top of everything: blueberries and plums. Underneath was a larger container of spinach. She couldn’t see anything else, but she felt the bag of rice sitting on the bottom.

“Thank you, Ishida.” She hugged the bag.

“It was nothing,” he said, pushing up his glasses. “Oh, one last thing.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the red panda keychain. It dropped into her hand, and she stared at it. Her thumb brushed against the bandage wrapped around one of its legs. It was tape, covering various sections of the trinket’s body. A pink bow adorned its neck. That wasn’t there before.

Tamiko looked up at Uryu. “You fixed it?”

"Of course I did.” He folded his arms. “That’s why I needed to take it home with me. The tears required a massive amount of concentration and time to repair. Otherwise, I would have gotten it back to you much sooner.”

It started out as a titter, but quickly exploded into a roaring laugh. Tamiko used the bag to support her chest, the pain intensifying.

He raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You’re such a bad liar,” she said, “and I love the bandages. An adorable touch.”

The laughter faded into a groan. He sighed and turned on his heel, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. “You should go in and get some rest, Kimura.”

“Right. Thank you.” She watched him start to walk away.

When he got a few feet away, he paused. “I suppose it goes without saying, but it would be best if you kept our conversation to yourself. Ordinary humans aren’t supposed to know about Quincies, let alone Hollows and reiryoku. Also, don’t breathe a word to Kurosaki and Kuchiki. They’re Soul Reapers, and they should be able to figure out what I am on their own. It is their challenge.”

The sharp coldness of his voice sent shivers down her spine. Tamiko winced, hand tightening around the keychain. “I-I promise not to say a word to them or anyone else.”

“Good.” With that, Uryu disappeared around the corner.

She stared after him for a minute. She turned and stared at the door for another. Overcome with weariness, she headed inside and put away the groceries.

Sitting down with a cup of tea, she thought back on everything that passed between them. There was definitely some resentment towards Ichigo and Rukia, but why? It didn’t seem like Quincies were all that different from Soul Reapers.

‘The last Quincy in existence.’ Tamiko watched a leaf bob in her cup. ‘Does that mean his father is his only family? With a relationship like that, Ishida must be so lonely.’

Tears pricked at her eyes. she hunched forward, the silence of the empty kitchen bearing down on her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Normalcy. The desire for it spurred Tamiko out of bed and to the closet for her school uniform. When she pulled down her shorts, she caught a flutter of movement. She whirled around and came face to face with large eyes and a dopey grin.

“Y-you!” she yelled, stumbling back onto her bed.

A middle aged man with a chain attached to his chest stood in the middle of her room. Drool dripped from the side of his mouth. He hurriedly wiped it off, eyes bugging out. “Wait. I thought you could only hear me.”

“Yeah, several weeks ago!” Her face was ablaze. “Hey, wait a minute. What are you doing still hanging around?”

The man shrugged, cheeks flushing red. “I don’t know how to pass on.”

“And that’s what makes you blush?” she deadpanned. She sighed and rubbed her head. “Good thing I know a guy. Look, you can chill here while I’m at school. But now, I need my privacy. So get out!”

She chucked a pillow at him. He screamed and flew through the wall as if she threw a bomb at him. The entire time she dressed and prepared for school, her chest throbbed with laughter.

Having a spirit hovering around and interrupting breakfast was probably as close to normal as Tamiko was going to get. While she worked through a simple breakfast of rice, miso, and blueberries, the spirit jabbered on about missing food and other pleasures of life.

“I even miss going to the bathroom!” he wailed, holding his hand and fluttering around the table. “Just to be able to sit on a toilet with a magazine like the good old days! I could use a little relea--Wah! Are you alright?”

A blueberry caught in her throat. She coughed and pounded her chest until it went down. After taking a few deep breaths, she glared at him. “Could you not talk about your sick appetite while I’m eating? Do you want me to become a spirit too? Death by a blueberry. My sister would hunt you all over the Soul Society for that one!”

“S-sorry.” He held up his hands, but when she resumed eating, he started in on his life story. He hung his head when Tamiko walked out the door to head to school.

Tamiko sighed, gripping the straps of her backpack. ‘Need to get Ichigo over here to perform a konso later. Otherwise, that guy’s going to become a Hollow and gobble me whole. He’d probably appreciate getting to eat again, though.’

Due to taking a longer route, the time spent getting to school doubled. Tamiko simply couldn’t bring herself to go past the turn leading to the train station. Thinking about it was enough to spring tears into her eyes. She furiously rubbed them, determined not to cry. Squaring her shoulders, she decided to never make anyone feel bad for her again.

By the time she reached the classroom door, that resolve vanished. Sweat formed on the back of her neck. Her legs wobbled. She peered into the classroom, taking note of where everyone was.

Orihime and Tatsuki were chatting with Michiru and Ryo. Behind them, Chizuru lurked, eyeing Orihime like a fox in a pen of chickens. Chad leaned against Ichigo’s desk, arms crossed. He stared at the floor as if contemplating something. There was no sign of Ichigo, Mizuiro, or Keigo yet. Rukia sat at her desk, a sad gaze fixed on her hands. When one twitched, she covered it with the other; she expelled a heavy breath. Uryu also sat at his desk, nose stuck in a book. He turned the page, cross swaying against his wrist.

Tamiko shivered, gulped, and darted behind the wall. She shook her head. There was nothing to be afraid of. What were they going to do? Gang up on her in the middle of the classroom? No, they’d wait until later and do it in a dark alley somewhere.

‘Shut up, brain,’ Tamiko commanded, running a hand through her bangs. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Ichigo says they’re nothing like those punks from junior high. You know he’s right.’

Speaking of Ichigo, his reiatsu slammed into her senses. She latched on and used it to ground herself. His every step was followed until he reached the third floor landing. Opening her eyes, she watched him and Mizuiro walk up to her.

“Tamiko!” Ichigo exclaimed, eyes softening with concern. “You look terrible. Are you sure you’re feeling up to being here?”

With a light chuckle, she held up a hand. “Just a little winded from the walk. I’ll be fine just sitting at a desk all day.”

“You shouldn’t have walked all that way by yourself. Why didn’t you call me? We would have walked with you. Right, Mizuiro?”

“Sure.” Mizuiro glanced up from his phone. “You can walk with us anytime, Kimura.”

Tamiko held herself straighter, squaring her shoulders and flashing a half-grin. She said, “Thanks, but I’m perfectly capable of walking myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get to my seat before the bell rings.”

A firm nod, turn, and step towards the classroom before she froze. Her heart pounded, igniting a dull ache. She swallowed, eyes darting around the room. It had worked before, so her mind reached out not only to Ichigo’s reiatsu, but to the others’ she could sense. Uryu and Rukia. But, also Orihime and Chad. When did they acquire reiryoku?

“Looks like a full class today,” Ichigo said, stepping up behind her. “Are you sure that you’re going to be ok, Tamiko?”

“I-I’m sure.” She nodded.

A hand laid on her shoulder. “Just be yourself. If you do that, then you’ll be just fine.” With that, he gently pushed her into the room.

Tamiko staggered until she was front and center. The entire class fell to silence, all eyes on her--except Uryu’s, which remained glued to his book. After casting a glare in Ichigo’s direction, Tamiko took a deep breath and straightened.

“G-g-g--” She clenched her eyes and blushed. “Good morning, everyone! I-I guess that’s all I wanted to say. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get that far.” Rubbing the back of her neck, she let out a nervous giggle.

Orihime’s smile stretched from ear to ear. She rushed at Tamiko, hair streaming out. “Good morning! It’s so good to have you back.” Her arms circled around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

The giggle transformed into strong peals of laughter, Tamiko returning the embrace. “It’s good to see you too, Orihime,” she said before gasping from a pang in her chest.

“Oh!” Orihime leaped away. “I’m sorry. Do your injuries still hurt a lot?”

“It’s just from laughing too much,” Tamiko said, between deep breaths. “It’s much better than it was.”

“Ahhh!” Chizuru squealed, dashing up to them. She jumped up and down. “That was too adorable! I never knew how cute you could be, Kimura, but you could never compare to dear Hime. Oh, please hug me like that.~” She pounced on Orihime.

Tatsuki stormed up and yanked Chizuru off. “Can’t you tone it down for a moment, Honsho? Geez!” Her face softened at Tamiko. “Welcome back. Though, I’m not sure you would want to return to this classroom of idiots.”

“What, and miss out on all of the fun?” Tamiko asked, tilting her head with a slight smirk. “Not a chance, Tatsuki.”

“Kimura?” a voice uttered from the door. They looked up, and Keigo’s face broke out into a giant grin. “You’re back!”

“Speaking of idiots,” Tatsuki mumbled, eyebrow twitching.

Keigo pushed past Ichigo and bounded towards them. His arms stretched out, and he ran smack dab into Tatsuki’s fist. It sent him flying back out the door; Ichigo and Mizuiro stepped out of the way, not even attempting to catch him.

“What was that for, Arisawa?” Keigo asked, stepping back into the classroom. His nose gushed blood, and Mizuiro handed him a handkerchief. “I just wanted to give her a hug. Are you jealous or something? You know there’s plenty of Keigo Asano to go around!”

“Ugh, give it a rest.” Tatsuki crossed her arms. “She’s only been outta the hospital for a couple of weeks. You wanna send her right back?” She waved a hand.

Holding the handkerchief to his nose, Keigo walked over and bowed to Tamiko. “Welcome back, Kimura. Did you happen to give any thought? To what I wrote on the card?”

“Thank you, Asano,” Tamiko replied, “and yes, I have. Maybe we could hit up the arcade sometime.”

His whole face turned red, blood soaking through the handkerchief. “R-really...?”

“As friends.”

“Oh.” Keigo hung his head and sighed.

Mizuiro and Ichigo walked up to him. They each patted a shoulder.

“Nice try, pal,” Ichigo said.

“I guess every single girl in our class has turned you down,” Mizuiro said. “Time to start dipping into the other classes?”

“Too late.” Keigo sighed and shuffled off to his seat with Ichigo and Mizuiro close behind.

Tamiko rubbed the back of her neck, watching Keigo sink into the chair. ‘Sorry. I’m barely ready to have friends, much less a...’ Her face warmed, and she looked down.

As she headed towards her seat, she froze beside Uryu. Out of the corner of his eye, he glared at her. Shivers shook down her spine. He pushed up his glasses.

‘What’s his problem?’ Tamiko wondered, walking by. ‘Is he angry because his reading was interrupted?’

Once more, Tamiko froze, but beside Rukia. She didn’t look up, her hand twitching again.

“Morning, Tamiko,” Chad’s voice rumbled; Tamiko glanced up to see a soft smile on his face. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, much better,” Tamiko said, returning the expression. “Thank you, Chad.” Her gaze returned to Rukia.

Ichigo leaned over with a sour look on his face. His hand pounced on Rukia’s head, and she jumped. Her eyes grew wide at him. “Ichigo! What is it? Is something wrong?”

“You bet something’s wrong,” Ichigo said, pointing at Tamiko. “Take a good look at who’s standing next to you.”

Tamiko smiled as Rukia whirled around. She jumped up, the polite smile taking over her face. “Kimura! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Welcome back.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kuchiki,” Tamiko said, waving it off. “You were probably thinking about something really important. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine.” Rukia bowed curtly before taking back her seat. Both hands twitched sharply to opposite sides. Hastily, she hid them under the desk, eyes growing sad yet again.

“A-are you sure?” Tamiko asked, holding out a hand.

The smile returned. “I am perfectly well. Thank you for your concern, Kimura.”

While Tamiko headed to her seat, she kept her eyes on Rukia. She wondered what could be going on. Secrets. The word came to mind, and Tamiko tapped the keychain on her backpack to watch it sway back and forth.

‘I guess I can’t judge her, if I’m keeping some of my own,’ she thought and sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After school, Tamiko swung her backpack on. Her plan was to ask Ichigo and Rukia to walk with her, and on the way, she would bring up the spirit. However, as she stepped towards them, Miss Ochi intercepted her.

“It’s good to see you back, Kimura,” she said, face as bright as the sun. “Just wanted to go over some things with you to make sure you haven’t fallen too far behind everyone else. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Oh, s-sure.” Tamiko stood on her toes to look over her shoulder.

Ichigo and Rukia were walking out of the classroom.

Ten minutes flew by before their discussion ended. Tamiko bowed to Miss Ochi and sprinted from the school. She dashed down several blocks in order to catch up to Ichigo’s reiatsu.

“Hey, Ichigo!” she called the moment he and Rukia came into view. They stopped and turned. When Tamiko caught up to them, she panted, hands on her knees. “F-finally. Boy, you sure do walk fast.”

“What are you doing tearing through town like that?”Ichigo asked, blinking. His brows joined together. 

Tamiko gave a breathless laugh, hand moving to her chest. “Wanted to catch you before you got all the way home. Felt good to run actually.”

“So why are you wincing?”

“Okay, maybe it was a bit much.” Tamiko straightened, letting a brief smile spread on her face. “Anyway, I’ve got a pest problem at home.”

Ichigo shrugged. “Then call an exterminator. You didn’t need to come runnin’ after us.”

“Sort of did, because it’s not that kind of pest. More like your perverted spirit variety.”

“And let me guess,” Ichigo said, folding his arms. “You want me to get rid of him for you?”

Tamiko lifted a hand towards him. “You got it, Ichigo!” she exclaimed. “I told him to hang out at my place, so he should still be there.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ichigo sighed. “What a pain.”

She took a step back and looked away. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ Tamiko wondered. ‘I didn’t mean to be a bother.’

“This is your job,” Rukia said to him. “If that spirit keeps hanging around, he’ll become a Hollow. Then he’ll be an even bigger pain, so quit complaining and let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” A hand rested on Tamiko’s shoulder, and she blinked at Ichigo. “Tamiko? You okay?”

The smile returned alongside a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Come on. Let’s send that spirit off to the Soul Society!”

She pointed before marching in the direction of her apartment. Ichigo and Rukia followed behind her. Only a few blocks away, past a convenience store, and they arrived.

“You’re home!” the spirit exclaimed the moment the door opened. Tamiko was reminded of an overly excited dog as he threw his arms around her. “It was so lonely here without you. I thought I’d go insane waiting.”

‘How long has this guy been wandering around as a spirit? If he’s this hard up for human interaction...’ Tamiko shuddered, face heating up as he nuzzled her chest.

Ichigo growled, prying the spirit off of her. “Enough already. You shouldn’t be preying on young girls like that.”

“I wasn’t ‘preying!’ Just giving her a ‘welcome home’ hug. That’s all!”

“Sure.” Ichigo rolled his eyes. He turned to Rukia with a deadpan look; she donned a glove and slapped his soul out of his body. Dressed in the shihakusho, he grabbed the hilt of his blade.

“Hey, what are you going to do with that sword?” the spirit asked. He took a step back as Ichigo unsheathed the massive blade.

“Going to help you pass on. What else?”

The spirit’s hands flew up in defense, as if they could stop a sword ten times their size. “N-now hold on. If ‘passing on’ requires me to get diced up, I don’t want any part of it!”

Again, Ichigo rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to cut you,” he grumbled, “but if you stick around here for any longer, I’ll be tempted. So go on. Get out of here already.” He jabbed the spirit in the forehead with the sword’s hilt.

The same bright light that had surrounded Machiko enveloped the spirit. He disappeared with a black butterfly fluttering in his place. Tamiko watched it disappear in the distance.

“Appreciate it, Ichigo,” she said, giving him a toothy grin.

“No problem,” Ichigo said, returning the sword to its sheath on his back. “Happy to help, especially with a spirit as annoying as that one. Call me, if another one starts buggin’ you.”

“Will do. It’s nice to know a professional exorcist.”

“Please don’t compare me to those scam artists.” Ichigo got a blank expression on his face as Tamiko circled around him. “What are you doing?”

Tamiko answered with a short laugh. “Getting a better look at this massive sword of yours. How can you run around with this meat cleaver strapped to you?”

“Oh? My Zanpakutō? Yeah, Rukia mentioned somethin’ about my reiryoku affecting it...”

Rukia folded her arms. “A Soul Reaper’s Zanpakutō can act as a reflection of how much reiryoku they have inside their bodies.”

“Right, what she said.” Ichigo rubbed the back of his head, stepping towards his lifeless body.

Tamiko covered her mouth and chuckled, and he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. “I see, so sword size equals reiryoku levels. Just like how shoe size equals the size of your...”

She trailed off when Ichigo’s face flushed pink, but her chuckle transformed into a full-body laugh. A clueless look appeared on Rukia’s face, eyes darting between the two of them.

“’Your’ what?” she asked, and Tamiko wrapped her arms around her chest; Ichigo covered his face with his hand. “Hey, tell me. What was she going to say?”

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re older,” Ichigo’s muffled voice came.

“Need I remind you that I am at least 10 times your age, Ichigo?”

Tamiko stepped closer to Rukia, saying, “I’ll tell you.” She leaned forward and whispered it into her ear while Ichigo glared daggers at them.

Rukia’s eyes lit up, slamming her fist into the palm of her hand. “That’s what you meant,” she said, glancing down at Ichigo’s feet. “How accurate is that?”

“It isn’t accurate at all!” Ichigo yelled, pink darkening to red. “Where did you learn that, Tamiko?”

“Read it in a magazine once,” Tamiko said between fits of giggles.

Ichigo’s eyebrow twitched. “You know you shouldn’t believe everything you read in those things.” He slid back into his body.

A smile appeared on Rukia’s face. Not the usual polite ones she would plaster on in the classroom, but a genuine one. It faded as her hand twitched; she gripped it, eyes turning downward.

“Is there something wrong with your hand, Kuchiki?” Tamiko asked. “Has it been bothering you?”

“Oh, it’s fine.” The polite smile made its appearance. With a quick wave, Rukia stepped away. “I better be going. See you in school tomorrow, Kimura.” 

Tamiko frowned, watching her disappear in the distance. “What’s up with her, Ichigo? She’s been acting strange all day.”

“Not just today,” Ichigo said, standing and rubbing his head. “Try three days. I’ve asked her what’s bothering her, but she won’t speak a word about it.”

“Maybe she’s homesick. Hasn’t she been here a whole month now? She must have friends and family that miss her.”

“Yeah, probably.” Ichigo sighed, picking up his school bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “See ya at school tomorrow. Remember, if you need anything, just call. That is, if you don’t mind my family squealing your ears off.”

Tamiko’s shoulders shook with a fresh wave of laughter. “Hey, maybe I’ll call just to have my ears squealed off. It gets quiet around here.”

“Just don’t make yourself deaf calling all the time,” Ichigo said, jabbing her forehead lightly with his knuckles. He held up his hand and started walking away. “Take care, Tamiko.”

It wasn’t until after he disappeared into the distance that Tamiko turned and slowly walked into the apartment. The silence around her was deafening, suffocating. She leaned against the door and looked over the living room.

‘I could have had a roommate, if that spirit wouldn’t become a Hollow,’ she thought. ‘Although...’ She wondered what kind of roommate he would have been, but decided that it definitely was for the best.

She went through the motions of changing clothes, preparing and eating dinner, and settling down to do homework. All the while, she wondered how much longer she could continue living in such an empty apartment alone. No one to talk to. No one’s face to look at except her own in the mirror.

Tamiko curled around Uryu’s red panda, believing that loneliness had to be the worst feeling in the entire world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting back into the main story of Bleach! Next chapter focuses on Kon! We'll see how Tamiko deals with a perverted soul who has hijacked Ichigo's body.


	5. Lonely Souls, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunchtime becomes dangerous when a new soul takes over Ichigo's body. Tamiko's brilliant idea to put an end to Tatsuki's rampage leads her to being kidnapped by "Ichigo." Just who is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, getting into some of the main story of Bleach. At least a small part of it. I hope this is good...or at least decent? I don't know, and I may never know.
> 
> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

Normal would be an accurate way to describe the next morning. No perverted spirits to ogle her while changing. Calmer greetings from friends reached her ears. Uryu’s greeting, however, was exactly the same. Another glare thrown in her direction. Tamiko scowled back, and he responded by pushing up his glasses and returning to his sewing pattern.

‘I don’t think he ever gets up on the right side of the bed,’ she thought, taking her seat.

One thing was off: Rukia hasn’t arrived yet. All throughout the morning, her desk sat empty. Tamiko caught herself looking at it multiple times, thinking that she has to be homesick. Has to be. The longing to call Machiko was strong.

Shortly after second period, Rukia made her appearance, citing an errand as her reason for being late. She asked Ichigo if they could speak in private, and he turned her down. Her response was a punch to his gut. With genuine shock on her face, Rukia grabbed his head and dragged him out of the room.

“Boy, that Kuchiki sure knows how to get a person’s attention,” Orihime commented on the event. “You have to admire her strength. She took him down with a single punch.”

Tamiko sat straighter, chuckling lightly. “One way to sweep a guy off of his feet. Must have had something pretty important to talk about if she has to drag him off like that.”

“Who knows? They’re always runnin’ off together.” Tatsuki crossed her arms.

“Yeah, pretty much every day,” Orihime whispered, staring at the doorway. A light sigh leaked out.

A book hid the growing smile. ‘I think Orihime has a little crush on Ichigo,’ Tamiko thought. ‘You know, they would make a cute couple.’

Class got underway, and Ichigo and Rukia hadn’t returned. In the middle of the period, Tamiko jerked towards the window. A Hollow was delaying them. She sighed and tried to focus on taking notes. For the rest of the hour, her legs shook.

“Hooray! It’s finally lunchtime!” Orihime shouted the moment class broke for lunch. She sprang from her seat, sending her notebook and pencil into the floor.

“Again?” Tatsuki asked, gathering the fallen objects. “Calm down, Orihime. It’s only lunch.”

Orihime pointed at her. “What are you talking about, Tatsuki? Everyone knows that the only reason a normal high school girl would come to school is...” She put one hand on her head and the other on her bottom. “...to eat her lunch.”

“I know that’s the only reason why I come,” Tamiko said, pulling out her bento and grinning at Orihime.

Tatsuki let out a relenting sigh. “Alright. Where are we gonna go eat today?”

“How about the roof?” Orihime asked after staring up at the ceiling in thought; every muscle in Tamiko’s body seized up. “I brought the picnic blanket with me today, and the weather is super nice!”

“Sounds good to me. What about you, Tamiko?”

“A-actually...” When her stuttering drew their attention, her eyes darted away.

“Is something wrong?” Orihime asked, approaching Tamiko. “You look kind of pale. Are you alright?”

Tamiko slowly sat down. “Not really. I don’t feel up to climbing the stairs to the roof.” Her head snapped up, and she waved her hands. “B-but don’t let me ruin your guys’ lunch. I’m fine eating alone here in the classroom, so don’t worry about me.”

Orihime frowned, placing one hand against Tamiko’s forehead and the other on her own. “At least you don’t seem to have a fever. No, we’ll stay here and eat with you. What if you suddenly got worse? We’re not about to abandon you!”

“Yeah, we can eat up on the roof any old time,” Tatsuki said, dropping her lunch on the desk beside Tamiko’s. “We’ll eat here in the classroom today.”

“Hey, I have an idea!” Orihime beamed. “Let’s push the desks together and form a giant table.”

So Tatsuki pushed the desks together. She sat down to Tamiko’s left while Orihime took the seat directly in front of her. They opened their lunches, Orihime pulling out a giant loaf of bread from her bag.

‘I didn’t mean to stop them from eating on the roof,’ Tamiko thought, staring at her curry. ‘Maybe I should apologize.’

“Look, Tamiko!” Orihime exclaimed, shattering her thoughts. Tamiko looked up to see Orihime dipping a piece of bread into a jar of red bean paste. She folded and held it up. “I can make my own red bean bun.”

Tamiko let a small smile appear, watching her pop the food into her mouth. “That’s a good idea, Orihime. Could I have a piece of bread please?”

“Sure.”

Orihime broke off a piece and handed it over with a smile. Tamiko spooned a portion of curry and rice onto it and folded it over with a grin.

“Now I have a curry bun.” She bit into it. Orihime giggled while Tatsuki shook her head.

From there, lunch progressed smoothly. Guilt continued to gnaw at Tamiko. Every so often, she caught herself picking at her food rather than eating. She shoved in a few bites. The more that the time passed, the more she was able to relax and enjoy the meal with her friends.

Until Ichigo landed on the window sill, and everything came to a screeching halt.

Chaos unfolded after he flirted with Orihime and Tatsuki. The classroom became a war zone with Tatsuki chucking chairs and desks at him, but he dodged each one effortlessly. It was all completely absurd, especially when that desk went flying out the window.

‘That’s not Ichigo,’ Tamiko thought, biting her lip. It may have been his body, but the reiryoku inside was so much weaker, quieter than normal. Not to mention the expression on his face was completely out of character. Oh, and she could sense the real Ichigo heading back towards the school.

A chair crashed against the wall and her thoughts. No doubt she shared some of the blame in what was happening. If she hadn’t made everyone eat inside, Tatsuki wouldn’t have gone on a rampage against a body hijacker. An idea popped into Tamiko’s head.

She burst out laughing. Tatsuki froze with a desk over head, chest heaving with harsh, deep breaths. A grin spread across the impostor’s face, head tilting to the side.

“You’re laughing,” he said. “Do you like what you see? Think I’m amazing?”

Tamiko hopped up. “Absolutely! Way to liven this dull place up!”

Orihime blinked. “Tamiko?”

“What the...?” Tatsuki slowly put the desk down.

The fake walked straight to Tamiko. He leaned closer, coming eye level with her chest. Heat surged through her face as she stepped back. His eyes moved up to meet hers. “Pretty average. You do have lovely eyes, though.”

“Thank you,” Tamiko forced, ignoring the clear insult. She swallowed and casted a bright smile at him, and his grin grew in return. “Why don’t we get out of here? Ditch this place and get to know each other better?”

“Yeah, sure!” He scooped her up and dashed for the window.

Tamiko’s eyes bugged out. “H-hey, wait!” she yelled, heart thudding. “I didn’t--hold on!”

“Come back here!” Rukia’s voice shouted as she appeared outside the doorway.

With a joyous laugh, the fake leaped out the window. Tamiko shrieked. Before she hid her face into his shirt, she caught a glimpse of Ichigo rising towards them.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing with--Gah!” Ichigo grunted, his voice fading on the wind.

It drowned out her screams. ‘We’re going to splatter on the ground,’ she thought, bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming.

To her surprise, it didn’t. The fake’s feet thudded against the ground, causing her teeth to grind together and heart to leap into her throat. Another joyous laugh, and he took off running.

Just as she began to calm down, he paused. She peeked out, and he crouched low to the ground before shooting up into the air; she went right back into hiding. The fabric of Ichigo’s uniform absorbed her sobs and screams, drowning out the bewildered voices below them.

“P-please stop,” Tamiko whimpered as the fake bounded through town.

“What? No way!” he shouted. “This is great! Everyone has their eyes on me. They’re so amazed at how high I can jump. I bet I look just like a superhero, rescuing the lovely damsel in distress.”

“Other way around, because you’re more like a super villain running off with the damsel.” She swallowed back the sour taste of curry. “And this particular one is terrified of heights, so if you don’t stop leaping into the air, I’m going to hurl all over you. Then we’ll see how amazing everyone thinks you are!”

“Urk!” He landed. “Ok, ok, I stopped. Please don’t hurl.”

He set her down on the bench. She hunched forward, taking deep breaths to still her pounding heart. A hand pressed against her back and moved in small circles. She looked up at a pair of concerned eyes.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he asked.

Her muscles relaxed, stomach calmed, and heart slowed. She offered a small smile that he returned. It quickly disappeared, his head darting from side to side. “If you’re looking for Ichigo, don’t worry. I can sense him coming for miles, and all that leaping left him in the dust. He’s still by the school.”

“R-really?” the fake said, and she nodded. He let out a breath, body deflating; he snapped up and raised an eyebrow. “Wait! How do you know that I’m not the real Ichigo Kurosaki?”

She exploded into laughter. “For one thing, you just bounded across town like a supercharged deer,” she said. “And like I said, I can sense Ichigo. Your spirit energy is far too weak.”

“W-weak? Hey! I thought you said that I was amazing!” His eyes went from shock to anger in a split second.

“And you are.” she flashed him a reassuring smile. “Just because your spirit energy is weaker doesn’t mean I lied. Anyway, I don’t even know what you are. My guess is some kind of spirit that managed to hijack Ichigo’s body?”

The impostor rubbed the back of his neck. “Er... I suppose you could say that. I’m a Kaizou Konpaku.”

“An artificial soul?” With wide eyes, she watched him nod and flop down beside her on the bench. He rested his arms against his knees.

“Yeah, created in the Soul Society.” A grin appeared on his face, a fist thrusting into the air. “I’m a super cool fighting machine. Made to fight Hollows! And then...”

The grin and fist fell. He went silent. As if something heavy landed on top of him, his shoulders slumped and head fell past his knees. All of the joy drained out of him in an instant.

“What’s wrong? Did something bad happen?” she asked, leaning forward so her head was level with his.

“They decided to terminate the project,” he reluctantly replied, letting out a heavy breath.

“Project?”

The mod soul glanced at her, eyes heavy. “’Spearhead.’ That was the name of the plan that created me and my friends. When it was terminated, they ordered all of us to be destroyed.”

Her own shoulders lowered, heart breaking for him. “How terrible. There was nothing you could have done to stop them?”

“No. Nothing. I’ve never been inside a real body before. Until today, I existed as a tiny pill.” With a heavy sigh, he stood. “And now that I’m in a real body, I intend to keep it. Since I leaped across town so fast, I bet I could get us hundreds of miles away in an instant!”

Now her shoulders shook, Tamiko hugging her stomach. Tears beaded in her eyes.

“Hey! What’s so funny?”

“W-were on an island,” she gasped between laughs. “You’ll only be able to get so far before reaching the ocean. So unless you’ve got superhuman swimming skills, you’re kind of stuck here.”

“Then we’ll just keep movin’. Leap from town to town. No problem!” He folded his arms and nodded.

“There is a problem,” she said, laughter coming to a halt. “We can’t just ‘keep moving.’ Eventually, we’d have to stop and rest. Human bodies require many things in order to function. Sleep, food, and water. And right about now, that body should be getting pretty hungry.”

As if on cue, a growling emitted from his middle. He put a hand on his stomach, blinking. “That’s what this feeling is?”

She leaped from the bench with a bubbling, “Yep! That stomach is definitely missing its lunch right now.”

“How do I get food then?”

“Uhh...” She rubbed the back of her neck, looking around. She pointed to a nearby convenience store. “That place sells lots of pre-made foods. You can also get food from a supermarket or restaurant.”

“Great! Let’s go!” He made to dash for the building, but she grabbed his collar.

“Now hold on. You can’t just walk in and grab whatever you want. It has to be paid for with money.”

“What’s money? Do you have some?”

Sighing, she dug her wallet out of her skirt pocket. “Yeah. I suppose the least we could do is make sure Ichigo gets his body back with a full tank.”

The smile was wiped off of the mod soul’s face. “Aw, you mean that you don’t want to run away with me?” he asked. “I have to give that guy his body back?”

“Afraid so.” Her answer bent him down so low that his finger tips brushed the ground. “Well, that body doesn’t belong to you. If you ran off with it, don’t you think Ichigo’s family and friends would miss him? They’d be lonely if he suddenly disappeared.

“You do have a point there.” He sighed. “Where is he at, anyway? Coming any closer?”

She looked into the distance. “He’s not too far off, but still a good several blocks away. Should give us plenty of time to eat. If there’s one thing you should have on your first day being inside a body, it’s ramen!” She chuckled and headed into the convenience store.

The mod soul marveled at it, looking and poking at everything on the shelves. It was like shopping with a little kid. Tamiko broke out into fits of laughter each time something new caught his eye. She looked away from him to check over ingredients on packages of ramen. When she looked up, he was gone.

“Huh? Mr. Kaizou?” she asked, looking around. She stood on her toes and caught Ichigo’s bright hair in front of the windows; she sighed and walked up to him. “Hey, you shouldn’t wander off like that.”

Drool seeped from his mouth, eyes wide. She blinked at the magazine he held, and her face grew hot. He was ogling a young woman in a bikini. It was snatched out of his hands and returned to the rack.

“Ack! I was lookin’ at that,” he said

“I’m not paying for it. And neither is Ichigo, so don’t get any bright ideas.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up to the register.

After paying and waiting for the ramen to cook, Tamiko and the mod soul returned to the bench. She watched as he slurped his first strand of noodles. His eyes sparkled.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “Yeah, it’s really good!”

“Bet you’ve never had anything like it before,” she said, a grin playing on her lips.

“Mhm.” His mouth was too full of noodles to speak.

She slurped some of her own, looking at the sky. “Although, I wonder if you’d just like the same stuff Ichigo does,” she mumbled, half to herself, “considering you’re in his body. If you were in someone else, you might like what they do. Everyone does have different tastes, after all.”

“Yeah, but I may never get the chance to be in another body,” the mod soul said, frowning into his bowl.

“What if we found you another one then?” He shook his head in response to her question. “Why not?”

“Because when Ichigo and Rukia find me, they’ll probably have me destroyed. I’m not supposed to exist, remember?”

“Then how did you come to be here, anyway?”

The mod soul leaned his head back. “It was a stroke of pure luck,” he said. “Got mixed in with a bunch of Gikongan.”

“Gikongan. What’s that?” Tamiko asked.

“A pill that Soul Reapers use to help souls that can’t leave their dead bodies,” he explained. “Forces them out by using a replacement soul.”

She asked, “So you got shipped out with them?”

“Well, I was put in with a box of goods heading to the World of the Living.” He paused to stir his ramen. “I could have sworn that that shopkeeper figured out what I was, though. Tossed me into an empty box, saying he’d deal with me later. But then I was bought to help Ichigo.”

Her brows wrinkled. “Shopkeeper? You were sold in a shop then? Where?”

He looked up. “It was a place where they sell a bunch of Soul Reaper stuff,” he said, “but I have no clue where it is.”

“Is there anything else you can remember? Any other voices or sounds?”

“Actually...” he turned towards her. “Now that you mention it, I was thinking that your voice sounded familiar. I’m certain that I heard you speaking a few days ago.”

Everything fell into place like pieces to a puzzle. The strange box, Rukia’s errand, and the mod soul’s appearance at school. There was only one shop that Tamiko has visited within the past week. Her eyes widened.

“You don’t mean--”

A shrill cry pierced through the air. Ramen splattered on the ground, Tamiko’s hands shooting to her ears. She and the mod soul leaped up and looked around.

There came a deafening crash and a chorus of screams. From a nearby building, smoke billowed up and darkened the sky. People froze, murmuring about what could have happened.

Something moved through the smoke--a long, sharp leg. A giant centipede burst out, scurrying along the side of the building. It paused and scanned the ground.

“Oh, there you are,” the Hollow intoned, multiple eyes settling on Tamiko and the Kaizou Konpaku. “Such a tasty little soul.” It dove towards the ground.

Her heart raced and muscles tightened. She whirled around to the chattering people. All of them were pointing fingers at a gas or electrical explosion, and no one seemed able to hear or see the approaching danger. Facing the mod soul, she said, “We have to get that Hollow away from them, or they’ll be hurt!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” he replied, glancing behind him. “How, though? There’s so many people and buildings all around us.”

Lunch hour. That typically drove many people to this part of town. Where could they go where there wasn’t anyone else around? Tamiko turned her gaze upward, gripping her arm.

“How high do you suppose you can jump?” she asked.

“Pretty high.” He pointed a thumb at himself and winked. “You’re looking at a guy whose specialty is jumping!”

“Good. Think you can get us up there?” She gestured to the roof of the convenience store.

“Yeah, but aren’t you afraid of heights?”

She shuddered, gripping her arm tighter. “Yeah. But I can’t let innocent people get hurt. I won’t let anyone else die like my sister did!” Two tears trickled down her cheeks, memories of Machiko bleeding on the street flooding her mind.

He smiled, saying, “A girl after my own heart.”

Effortlessly, he scooped her up, bent low, and sprang into the air. Like before, she hid as wind whipped her clothes and hair. It wasn’t necessary for her to see the Hollow; she knew that it was following them.

Upon landing, the mod soul set her back on her feet. While her legs felt like jello, she stayed upright. She took a deep breath, sensing the Hollow drawing closer.

It appeared, crawling up the side of the building. With its many eyes glinting in delight, it loomed over them, encasing them in shadow. The Hollow let out a sinister chuckle, sending shivers down her spine.

“Ah, I see,” it said. “You didn’t want those mindless humans to get hurt. How touching, but I couldn’t care less about any of them. You just made it easier for me to consume you.”

‘We just need to keep it busy until Ichigo arrives,’ Tamiko thought, sweat sliding down her face. With each passing second, his reiatsu drew closer. She focused on it, legs transforming back into solid matter.

Just in time too, because one of the Hollow’s many legs shot out. She skirted away, crying as a sharp pain slashed her cheek. Blood trickled down, dotting the roof. When another leg came, she ran. The mod soul yelled, but she couldn’t make out what he said.

Another leg appeared directly in front of her. She dove and came face to face with the street. Her shrieks trembled up her throat, filling the air. Something grabbed hold and pulled her back. There came a grunt and splatter before her shoulder banged against the roof.

“How dare you interfere!” the Hollow bellowed. “I’m not interested in a weakling like you, so get out of the way!”

“Weakling or not, I won’t let you kill her,” the mod soul said. “I’m a totally amazing Kaizou Konpaku, made to fight monsters like you!”

Sounds of fighting rang out--a song of grunts, groans, howls, and thuds. Ichigo’s reiatsu joined in, adding a roar into the mix. The fight began to crescendo with the three’s pressures clashing together. When the building shook, Tamiko’s own screams blended in.

Everything suddenly became silent and still. A weak howl from the Hollow broke it, but that soon faded on the wind. The Hollow disappeared along with it.

Tamiko remained glued to the floor, trembling. Voices reached her ears, but they sounded distant despite the owners’ reiatsu only being a few feet away. She was too afraid to open her mouth in order to speak, so she let out a small whine.

A hand rested against her back before someone lifted her. “You’re alright, Tamiko,” Ichigo said. “Just hang on, and I’ll get you down. Okay?”

She could only whimper in response, gathering a fistful of his shihakusho. A torrent of screams reverberated through her throat as air rushed around them. Within a matter of seconds, though, everything stilled along with a thud. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Geez! That seriously hurts!” Ichigo hissed. He shifted from side to side. “Nothing seems to be broken, at least.”

“Huh? I didn’t feel a thing,” the mod soul said.

“Well good for you.” Ichigo gently squeezed Tamiko’s arm. “Hey, we’re safe and sound on the ground now. Are you alright, Tamiko?”

“I-I think so,” she said, slowly opening her eyes.

They were standing within a dark, empty alley. Not a person could be seen except for Ichigo and his doppelganger. Irony hit her, causing her to laugh. It was almost like the fear she had had the day before, about being cornered in a dark alley by her classmates. Honestly, the current situation was an improvement.

A blank look crossed over Ichigo’s face. “What’s so funny? Just a few seconds ago you were so scared that you couldn’t move!”

“Nothing.” Tamiko gave him a reassuring smile. “Just my own little joke. You can put me down now, Ichigo.”

Her feet touched the ground, and she wobbled. His arms shot out in order to catch her, but she waved him off. He backed away, glared, and grabbed the mod soul by the collar.

“Hey!” his double yelled in response, wincing. His--Ichigo’s--shoulder was soaked with blood.

Tamiko looked down, thinking, ‘He got that wound because of me.’

“What were you thinking running off with Tamiko like that!?” Ichigo bellowed. “Because of you, both she and my body got injured. Dumbass! I’d pound your face in if you weren’t inside my body right now.”

“I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.” The mod soul held up his hands. “Honest!”

“Not good enough!”

“Uhm, Ichigo,” Tamiko said, and he glanced back at her. “It was my brilliant idea to go up to the roof. Your shoulder got wounded because he was protecting me.”

Ichigo’s eyes softened briefly. He faced his doppelganger. “Still not good enough. If he would have just left you at school then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Actually--”

The air became heavy, charged with reiatsu. Somehow, Ichigo didn’t seem to notice, continuing to chew out the mod soul. The latter’s attention had been diverted, looking past him with wide eyes.

Clacking sandals echoed. Tamiko turned, watching Urahara step into the alley, cane in hand. The bucket hat bathed his eyes in shadow. His mouth was a thin, straight line.

‘How?’ Tamiko wondered. Her legs quivered, and she pressed up against the building to keep from collapsing. ‘He does have reiryoku? And I didn’t sense it until now?’

“My, my,” he said, stopping directly behind Ichigo. “Finally found you.”

Ichigo turned with furrowed brows, blinking.

“W-wait,” Tamiko squeaked out, but Urahara didn’t appear to hear.

“And look at that,” he sighed, tapping his cane against his shoulder, “you’re all roughed up. That means all of the equipment Jinta and Ururu lugged all the way across town went to waste. Ah, well.” He lifted the cane, bottom end pointed at the mod soul.

His strangled cry was cut off as the cane jabbed him in the forehead. A small, spherical pill shot out. It bounced down the alley and rolled to a stop. The body went limp, only being held up by Ichigo’s hold.

“W-wha...” was all Ichigo could get out.

Urahara walked by him and picked up the pill. He straightened and tossed it into the air. “That’s mission complete. I am terribly sorry for all of the trouble he caused you, Tamiko. You can be sure that he won’t bother you ever again.”

Her heart plunged into her stomach. “No!” Tamiko screamed, pushing away from the building. “Please, Urahara! Don’t do it!”

“Hm?” Urahara lifted his hat with the cane. “Didn’t he just drag you across town against your will? Shouldn’t you be glad that he’ll be properly dealt with?”

“No, of course not,” she said, tears burning her eyes. “It’s not fair!”

“Tamiko...”

She vigorously shook her head. “I won’t let you kill him! Besides, it’s not his fault, I--”

Ichigo rushed in between her and Urahara. “Hey, just what the hell is going on here?” he demanded. “Are you really going to kill him?”

“That’s my job,” he said, stepping back. “To ensure that dangerous merchandise is properly disposed of.”

“Then you can see me?” Ichigo’s eyes grew. “Who are you?”

A pair of feet pounded into the alley.

“Oh. How should I answer that?” Urahara asked, looking between him and Tamiko. The pill tossed into the air once more.

Rukia blurred by, hand shooting out and grabbing it. “He’s a greedy shopkeeper. That’s all you need to know.”

“M-Miss Kuchiki!” he exclaimed, reaching in an attempt to snatch the pill back. “Don’t take that!”

She jumped away, glaring. “What Urahara?” she asked, studying the pill. “Don’t tell me that it’s store policy to take goods away from customers who’ve already paid for them?”

“Look, if it’s compensation you want, I’ll pay...”

Her hand closed around the mod soul. A genuine smile lit up her face. “No need. I’m satisfied with the product. Anyway, aren’t you working outside of the law? You aren’t actually responsible for his disposal.”

“I’m not?” Urahara asked, eyes hiding behind his hat. “In that case, if trouble comes, we’ll play dumb.”

“Don’t worry. I’m getting used to trouble.” Rukia walked over to Ichigo and dropped the pill into his hand. “Here. Let’s go.”

“Uh. Yeah, sure.” He stared at the mod soul.

Sandals clacked against concrete again, Urahara heading back out of the alley. He shook his head.

“Hold on,” Tamiko said, hand grabbing the end of his haori.

“What’s the matter, Tamiko?” he asked, cocking his head. “You know, you’ve got a pretty nasty cut there. Should get that taken care of before it leaves a scar.”

“You knew.” The cloth bunched up in her fist. Tears poured down her cheeks, searing the open wound. “You know what happened to Machiko, didn’t you!? And... you were the one that told her about Hollows, reiryoku--all of it--weren’t you? Why didn’t you do something to help her? You could have, and you didn’t!”

His eyes softened. He laid his hand on her head, but Tamiko shoved it aside, breathing furiously. A throbbing erupted in her chest.

“I did say that I was deeply sorry for what happened to her,” he said, looking away. “You may not believe that, but it is the truth.”

She hung her head. “Why should I believe you? You could have at least told me what you were from the start.” Her hand loosened on his haori, and it slipped away.

“What I am...” His face brightened. He snapped open his fan. “...is just a humble candy store owner! You already knew that, Tamiko!”

Refusing to look at him, she leaned back against the building. She slid down and buried her face into her arms.

“Just remember,” Urahara said, sandals clacking against concrete once more, “if you need anything, don’t hesitate to pop by. You’re always welcome.” The clacking faded into the distance.

Betrayed. She felt betrayed. She thought Urahara was someone she could trust. Then what did that mean about Rukia, who knew his secrets? ‘Mother was right. I should choose my friends more carefully.’

“Hey,” Ichigo said, and she peeked out to see him back within his body and crouching in front of her. “What was all that about, Tamiko? With you that Hat-and-Clogs guy?”

Rukia stepped up beside her. “Yes, just how do you know Urahara? Is he really where your sister got her knowledge from?”

“I-I guess so.” Tamiko lightly thumped her head against the wall. “Machiko worked part-time for him. I thought his store was just a candy shop.”

“That’s what you were supposed to think,” Rukia said, folding her arms. “It’s a ruse meant to keep nosy humans from poking around.”

Tamiko blushed, looking away. “Right,” she mumbled. Wincing, she put a hand to her wounded cheek. It was sticky with blood.

“Come on. We should get that cheek treated. Wouldn’t want it to get infected.” Ichigo held out a hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A bright light emitted from Rukia’s hands, enveloping the wound on Tamiko’s cheek. It closed, the burning ceased. Tamiko sighed in relief, rubbing the newly healed skin. Rukia turned and did the same to the wound on Ichigo’s shoulder. The bleeding stopped, and Ichigo rolled his shoulder with a grunt.

“That’s really cool, Rukia,” Tamiko said with an open-mouth smile. “I guess that means your Soul Reaper powers are coming back, huh?”

Rukia frowned, staring sadly at her hands. “No, they haven’t. I can use them occasionally, but they’re slow to respond. Like something’s holding the back.”

“Has that been what’s buggin’ you?” Ichigo asked.

“Nothing’s been ‘bugging me’ other than you and your constant nagging.” Rukia scowled at him.

“I’m constantly nagging you because you’ve been acting off for the last few days. If you’d just talk about it, I’m sure you’d feel better.”

“Are you homesick, Kuchiki?” Tamiko asked, leaning forward. “It’s been over a month since you came. You must have loads of family and friends that are missing you just like I miss Machiko.”

With a shake of her head, Rukia turned away. Before she did, Tamiko caught a similar look in her eyes that Uryu had. Her eyes misted over as if she wanted to cry but wouldn’t.

“No. There’s no one missing me,” she said. Before Tamiko or Ichigo could protest, she snatched the pill from the coffee table. “Now, what are we going to do with him? He could still come in handy with getting Ichigo out of his body when I’m not around to do so.”

Tamiko and Ichigo exchanged a glance at the sudden change in subject. His eyes were soft, knowing. There was no doubt that he didn’t buy what Rukia was selling, and she agreed.

‘Secrets. Ones that could cause us harm if we get too close,’ she thought, heart skipping a beat. ‘Could it be something that awful?’

“Well, I know I wish I could give that mod soul a good punch to the face,” Ichigo said, derailing her thoughts. “Pay him back for dragging Tamiko around, flirting with my classmates, and banging my body up.”

“You’d just have to insert him into a body.” Rukia straightened. “One that doesn’t have a soul.”

He jumped up, slamming his fist into his hand and grinning. “Then we just need a dead body. Perhaps a stray cat or dog got run over somewhere.”

“Sorry, fresh out of dead animals,” Tamiko said with a short laugh. “Got tons of stuffed ones, though.”

A spark lit up his eyes. “Hey! Stuffed animals don’t have any souls in them, do they?” he asked.

“Well... no, I don’t suppose they do,” Rukia mumbled, putting a hand on her chin and looking down. “Could that actually work?”

Tamiko jumped up and headed towards the stairs, waving for them to follow. “It’s a worth a try. Come on. I’ll find a really good one!”

Her bedroom was littered with the stuffed animals from her friends; she frowned at the thought of parting with any of them, but the idea of the mod soul staying cramped within a tiny pill broke her heart.

‘What about the dog?’ Tamiko wondered, looking at Michiru’s and smiling. ‘He’d be cute as a puppy.’

She continued to look around, eyes landing briefly on the red panda. Nope, that would be staying put. Tamiko continued her search until her gaze settled on the lion atop her bookshelf.

It was a cheap knock-off of the main character from the TV show Carnivore Kingdom. Tamiko remembered watching the show a lot when she was younger, so she got a kick out of the toy that Chad had given her. It was absolutely perfect.

The lion was held out to Rukia, who pushed the pill through its mouth. Tamiko set it down on her bed, and they leaned over it. Nothing happened. The stuffed animal remained lifeless. Just when all hope seemed lost, the eyes blinked and looked around. He sprang up, causing the three to leap back.

Ichigo blinked, Rukia’s mouth hung open, and Tamiko howled with laughter. The mod soul’s whirling came to a halt, facing her. Tears welled up in his eyes. He ran towards her, feet squeaking. Arms outstretched, he leaped off of the bed. Ichigo grabbed him by the tail.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling him up to eye level.

“I-Ichigo?” the mod soul gasped. “Hey! What are you doing in a girl’s bedroom? Don’t tell me you’re putting the moves on my Tamiko?”

“No way.” Ichigo’s eyebrow twitched. “For one thing, I’m not a pervert like you, and since when did she become your Tamiko?”

Tamiko’s howls grew louder; she hugged her stomach. “Ha! It worked. This is great!”

“I can’t believe it,” Rukia said, leaning closer to the mod soul. “Who would have thought that a soul could be inserted into a stuffed animal?”

He blinked twice. “Wait. Stuffed animal?” The mod soul lifted his arms, swinging like a pendulum. “Gah! I’m a stuffed animal. Why am I inside a children’s toy?”

“Well, it was either that or some poor, flattened cat or dog. This is much better. And...” Tamiko paused, holding up a finger and smiling. “...that body is extra special. A friend gave it to me while I was in the hospital, so you better take good care of it.”

“Y-you mean this toy belongs to you?” the mod soul asked, tears puddling in his eyes again. He clasped his paws. “Does this mean I get to live here? In your room? With you?”

“No way,” Ichigo promptly said.

“Aww, but why not?”

“Gee, I wonder why not.” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re a creep? You’re not even the first one to try.”

“I’ll be good! Scout’s honor!”

Ichigo shook his head. “Likely story, Kon.”

“K-Kon? What kinda name is that?” the mod soul asked.

“Short for Kaizou Konpaku,” came Ichigo’s response.

“Then why not call me ‘Kai?’ That sounds way cooler!”

“Exactly,” Ichigo said, heading towards the door. “Now come on. You’re coming home with me.”

The newly named Kon tugged at his tail with both paws. “No! Please! I promise I’ll behave,” he begged. “Hey, Tamiko! Please tell him that I can stay. I’ll cook, clean, and even do your laundry.”

Tamiko waved and flashed him a comforting grin. “Nah, I think you’ll do much better at Ichigo’s. I’m sure you’ll become the best of friends.”

When the trio left, Tamiko flopped onto her bed with a sigh. She stared at the ceiling, kind of wishing that Kon could have stayed, despite his... tendencies.

‘He would make things more lively around here,’ she thought, ‘but it’s better for him to be with Ichigo. I can cook and clean for myself, but Ichigo needs help to get out of his body when Rukia isn’t around.’

Speaking of Rukia, Tamiko again wondered about what secrets she could be harboring. The fact that she was working with Urahara appeared to be one of them.

‘Working outside the law.’ She draped an arm over her eyes. ‘That could be it, couldn’t it? Rukia working with Urahara could stir up some trouble. Why? Who are you, Urahara?’

The presence of reiatsu snapped her out of her thoughts. Something thumped onto the balcony outside. She grabbed the red panda and walked out on shaky legs.

On the floor of the balcony was her backpack. She hugged the stuffed animal and looked up. Uryu stood on the neighbor’s roof. From the angle and distance, she couldn’t make out his eyes or facial expression.

“I-shi...” But before she could get out his name, he disappeared. She stepped back, blinking. “Where did he go? His reiatsu is far away now.”

Looking at her backpack, she wondered, ‘Did he just stand on a roof to bring me my bag? Or has he been out there this entire time?’ With Ichigo’s reiatsu, it could be difficult to sense other people sometimes.

Tamiko took her backpack inside. At least she could pour all of her energy into homework. That should help take her mind off of everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Tamiko walked through the classroom door, she expected a flurry of questions about yesterday’s events. However, Orihime cheerfully greeted, “Good morning, Tamiko! Isn’t today going to be a great day. I can’t wait until lunchtime!”

“Orihime, are you feeling okay?” Tamiko asked, blinking. “Don’t you remember something odd happening yesterday?”

“’Something odd?’” Orihime put a finger on her chin and looked up. “No, I don’t think so? It was your first day back, so it was a great day.” A cheerful smile spread across her face.

Tamiko’s eyes widened. Orihime has forgotten an entire day? That couldn’t be right, but all around her, voices were expressing confusion.

“Hey, what happened to the homework that was due today?” someone asked, rummaging through their bag. “I could have sworn I put it in my bag before bed last night. Oh, here’s something... Wait, that can’t be right!”

“I don’t remember taking these notes. Shouldn’t they be today’s lesson?” another person questioned.

A sickness washed over Tamiko. Everyone seemed to be missing yesterday from their memories, like it never happened. Just like how she had completely forgotten the afternoon Machiko died. How, though?

For some reason, Urahara popped into her mind. She slowly sank into her seat and placed her head into her hands. ‘Could he have something to do with it? But he couldn’t have. He wasn’t there when the Hollow attacked, was he?’

The tugging came again, as if she were desperately trying to remember something. It had to be another memory from the day Machiko died, but something was holding it back.

“Ah, what’s wrong, Tamiko?” Orihime asked. “You look really sick! Do you need to go see the nurse?”

Tamiko lifted her head, and Orihime promptly put a hand against her forehead. The other flew to her own, and she sighed in relief.

“No fever,” she whispered, hands sliding away.

“What’s up, Orihime?” Tatsuki asked as she walked up. “Worried about somethin’?”

“It’s Tamiko! She’s super pale.”

Shaking her head, Tamiko chuckled and waved her hand. “I’m fine. Probably didn’t get enough sleep. Stayed up too late playing video games. Really, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Tatsuki leaned closer as if to get a better look. “Because you don’t look so hot. Have you been getting enough to eat lately? You didn’t bring much food for lunch yesterday. Just rice and miso soup.”

“I’ve been eating plenty. Just made too much rice and miso for breakfast. Today I have ramen. My bento is about to burst with it!”

Tatsuki frowned, looking between her and Orihime. “You know, my mother sometimes prepares things for Orihime, since she’s always cooking such strange stuff. I could ask her to make a little extra for you, Tamiko.”

Tamiko straightened, waving both hands. “That’s not necessary,” she said. “I don’t want to cause her any trouble.”

“It wouldn’t.” A grin pulled at the corners of Tatsuki’s mouth. “My mom loves to cook. Hey, why don’t you come over tomorrow? Then you can give her an idea of some of the foods you like.”

Blushing and looking down at her hands, Tamiko mumbled, “Well, I was going to get groceries tomorrow. I can come by afterwards, if that’s alright.”

“Sure! Come by any time.”

While they talked, Ichigo walked into the room with Mizuiro. Something was different, and Tamiko’s eyes widened. There was a giant smile on Ichigo’s face. He was practically beaming. For a moment, she worried that Kon had somehow taken over his body again.

“Good morning, Inoue! Tatsuki!” he said cheerily, walking straight up to them.

“Oh, good morning, Kurosaki.” Orihime smiled back, but her eyes narrowed slightly.

Ichigo’s hand fell on Tamiko’s head. “Good morning, Tamiko. Hey, where’s your usual smile? Today’s a great day.”

“Yeah. It is,” she mumbled, blinking. Three pairs of eyes watched him saunter to his desk.

“Something’s bothering him,” Orihime whispered. “He’s really tense.

Tatsuki folded her arms, asking, “What’s today?”

“Oh.” Tamiko blinked down at her watch, and her eyes popped out. “June 16th. Is that why Ichigo’s acting so strangely?”

“Yeah. Every year around this time, he puts on that mask. Because tomorrow, it will be six years since ‘that’ happened.”

Tamiko’s heart pounded, watching Ichigo laugh at something Keigo had said. Keigo’s chest puffed out, a large grin spreading across his face. He wriggled his fingers in Mizuiro’s face until he forked over 500 yen.

‘That’s eerie,’ Tamiko thought, looking down at her desk. ‘Because six years ago, we almost died.’


	6. Rainy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 17th. An important day in the history of Ichigo Kurosaki. Apparently, the day holds some importance for Uryu as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

It poured. A torrent of water fell for days with no signs of stopping. Tamiko despised it. The colors of the world were washed away, turning everything a dreary gray. Her small, rain boot covered foot kicked at a puddle.

“Now what did that puddle ever do to you?” her father asked softly. He walked beside her, holding an umbrella to keep them dry. A playful grin tugged at the edges of his mouth.

She shrugged, glaring at the next section of standing water they were walking towards. “Just felt like it. I’m sick of seeing them.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her just before she could kick it as well. “Now, little one,” he said, “it isn’t the puddle’s fault that it’s there. No need to take your frustration out on it. You should smile at rainy days, not let them get you down.”

“But I don’t feel like smiling.” She put the foot down and folded her arms. “Everything is so cold and gray.”

“All the more reason to smile. Come on, Tamiko. Don’t smiles make everything brighter? Look. I’ll show you an example.” He nudged her shoulder until she looked up at him. He smiled, gentle eyes sparkling. They were such a bright green, the only color among the monochrome.

It started as a twitch, but gradually, her mouth formed a large smile. “Good point!”

With a laugh, she raced off ahead, no longer caring if she got wet. She turned and waved at her father, who rose the umbrella in return. When she took off again, she heard him laughing as he ran behind her.

For an entire block, he chased her. The only thing that could impede her progress was the changing stoplight. She skidded to a halt and scowled at it, shuffling her feet in anticipation. Feet splashed, and the hood of her raincoat was yanked over her eyes.

“Hey! No fair, Daddy!” she exclaimed, scrambling to get her hood up. Her father’s merry laugh rang out ahead.

Once she could see again, she rushed after him. It was her turn to chase him, but she never could catch up no matter how hard she tried. Another intersection helped her to close the gap. While waiting for the light to change, she put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“Do you want to call a truce?” he asked, cocking his head and grinning from ear to ear. “You look worn out.”

Tamiko pouted, turning away from him and mumbling, “Fine.” He let out a satisfied sigh in response. However, before the light could change, she took off across the street. “Just kidding!”

“Wait! Come back, Tamiko!” he called after, but she repeated his ringing laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye, lights of an oncoming car broke through the deluge. She didn’t care, certain that she would be out of the way long before it could reach the intersection or the light would switch over and cause it to stop.

Neither of those things happened. The moment she reached the middle of the intersection, her legs gave out from under her. She slammed into the concrete, water soaking into her knees; she scrambled to pick herself up. Her heart raced at the sound of screeching tires.

The headlights were blindingly bright in her eyes, the car just a few feet from her. Everything seemed to slow down. Feet splashed through the intersection. Her father appeared when the car reached them.

Tamiko wailed, pain ripping through her body. Then darkness.

Faintly, her father’s voice said, “Never stop smiling, even on the rainy days. Rain or shine, you smile. Do this, Tamiko, and everything will be alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tamiko shot up with a gasp. Her pounding head dropped into her hands. That nightmare again. Every year, it returned, the events of that accident replaying. It would never let her forget. She drew a shuddering breath.

“My fault,” she whispered, voice breaking. “If I hadn’t run out in front of that car...” Her words transformed into sobs.

Outside, the rising sun lit up the sky. There would be no more sleep, the nightmare too fresh. She got up and prepared for the busy day ahead. Bills, groceries, hanging out with Orihime and Tatsuki, and visiting her father. The early start was beneficial.

After a breakfast of rice and miso, Tamiko wrote out a grocery list. Three whole pages were filled with everything she wanted to eat, but she realized that she probably couldn’t afford even half of what she wrote out. She started over with a new list, reminding herself to only get the essentials.

‘Bread, eggs, fruit, vegetables, and meat,’ she listed out. ‘Got to get some meat.’

With the list done, Tamiko tackled the overstuffed mailbox. She made two stacks: bills and junk mail. Both grew at least an inch tall. In between was neither a bill nor junk. A pink envelope with light blue ink stood out among the shades of white and gray.

‘Sango Daiichi,’ Tamiko read, ‘Lily Vale Drive, Naruki City Tokyo, 166-0016. Who is this?’ She flipped the envelope around and held it up to the light, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. ‘Probably one of Machiko’s friends, but why would she be writing to me?’

It was cast aside, not being important enough to deal with before going over the bills. Her hands shook as she brought the stack closer and started to sort through it. A lot of late notices, especially the electric and phone bills. They were high priority, so she opened them first.

Thankfully, Urahara had given her cash rather than checks. She laid out the money needed for each and counted out what she would have leftover. A lump formed in her throat when she saw how little she would have after covering the bills through August.

‘I’d have to find a job before then,’ she thought, letting out a soft sigh. ‘Then I certainly can’t afford to attend summer school. It may take the entire month to find something. Unless I go to...’

She shook her head. No way would she go crawling to Urahara after what she had discovered the other day. The idea caused her insides to squirm with anxiety.

A huge weight lifted off of her shoulders when Tamiko stepped out of the post office, the bills on their way to being paid for. She even managed a smile on her walk to the supermarket. It disappeared the closer she got to it.

No blurry forms stood in her path, only the front doors. ‘Last time I was here, I was with Machiko,’ she thought. Before striding in, she took a deep breath.

Grocery shopping alone was a drastic difference from shopping with Machiko. Each item Tamiko picked up, she immediately noted the cost of it. Her eyes widened as she jotted them down, realizing that everything cost more than she had realized. More things were crossed off her list. Likely for the best, as she didn’t feel comfortable in her cooking skills to prepare most of it.

She sighed, carrying her three plastic bags out of the store and back to the apartment. At least instant ramen and curries were cheap. If she supplemented them with simple lunch meat, eggs, and vegetables, that should be enough to get her by.

‘I hope I don’t get sick of ramen after all,’ she thought, hands tightening on the bags.

The fridge and cabinets gained a better appearance fully stocked. She breathed another sigh, closing the last cabinet--another weight off her shoulders. With all of that taken care of, she grabbed a box of cookies and headed back out.

On her way, a building caught her eye. The Kurosaki Clinic. Traces of Ichigo’s reiatsu lingered in the air, but it was clear that he wasn’t home. Not only did he feel far away, but a notice on the door confirmed it, ‘We regret to inform you that we will not be seeing any patients tomorrow the 17th - Kurosaki Clinic.’

‘Must be because of what happened six years ago,’ Tamiko thought, frowning at the notice. ‘Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ichigo mention his mother. Was that what happened? Did she die six years ago?’

No wonder he had acted so strangely yesterday. He must have been incredibly close to his mother, and young too. Tamiko turned nine that year, so she suspected that he had as well.

‘He lost his mother at nine years old.’ She continued on her way, hugging the box of cookies tighter. ‘My dad... he may be confined to a hospital bed, but he’s alive.’

Another thing was crossed off of her list as Tamiko came up to a house matching the description given to her by Tatsuki--a simple two-story house, surrounded by lush hedges. Tamiko stepped up and rang the doorbell.

No more than a moment later, the door was opened by a middle aged woman. “Oh, you must be Tamiko Kimura,” she said after studying her. “Tatsuki has told me so much about you. Please, come in.” She stood aside to allow her into the house.

Right, the woman must be Tatsuki’s mother--they did bear a slight resemblance. Tamiko bowed, murmuring softly, “Thank you.”

Inside was as standard as the outside. Certainly smaller than her home in Naruki. The only thing that caught her eye was a glass case filled with martial arts trophies. Several bore Tatsuki’s name, but a few contained a boy’s name.

“We’re very proud of them,” Mrs. Arisawa explained, stepping beside her. “They’ve done exceptionally well with martial arts. I have absolutely no clue where they got it from. Neither their father and I are very athletic.”

Tamiko leaned closer to read a karate trophy from 1995. ‘Tatsuki Arisawa, Youth Division Champion.’ A smile reflected back at her.

“Yeah. In fact, I’ve seen Tatsuki in action.” She rubbed the back of her neck, laughing nervously. “It was my first trip to the dojo a few months ago. Scared me so much that I signed up for a bojutsu class instead of karate. I should thank her for that, now that I think about it.”

“Ah, you like martial arts as well?”

She let out another nervous laugh and explained, “Kind of got roped into it by my mother, but it’s grown on me. I’m not nearly as good as Tatsuki is, though. She’s going to win that tournament this summer for sure.”

Mrs. Arisawa nodded and pointed to an empty section on the shelf. “Right there. That’s where her trophy is going to go. I do hope I’m not putting too many expectations on her.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Tamiko said with a shake of her head. “You’re just confident in her abilities. That’s empowering.”

The lines of age appeared with her smile. Mrs. Arisawa gestured to the stairs. “Anyway, Tatsuki and Orihime are upstairs. First door on the left.”

“Thank you.” She bowed and turned towards the stairs.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Mrs. Arisawa exclaimed, and Tamiko whirled around to face her. “Tatsuki told me about what happened. I’m sorry for your loss. I’d be more than happy to send some food over to you anytime you need it. Is there anything you particularly like?”

Tamiko stiffened. “I-it’s ok. I have plenty of food, and I wouldn’t want to trouble you. Er. Thank you. For the offer, ma’am.” She bowed.

“No trouble at all. Honestly, I make far too much food sometimes. It would just go to waste if I didn’t send it to Tatsuki’s friends every once in a while.”

“W-well. No sushi or garlic. Otherwise, I’m not picky.”

“No sushi or garlic,” Mrs. Arisawa parroted. “I’ll be sure to send foods without those things.”

“Thank you.” Tamiko dashed up the stairs.

Soft voices spilled out of Tatsuki’s room. She peered in, seeing them on the bed with a bag of chips and drinks on a table between them. Instead of walking in, Tamiko shuffled her feet.

“But you know,” Tatsuki said, “even though he cried, he would start smiling again the moment he saw his mom when she picked him up. I really hated that. Someone who loses like that shouldn’t be smiling like an idiot. He was spoiled, sticking to his mom like glue.”

She turned towards the door, sadness drawn all over her face. When she saw Tamiko, it lifted away. “Oh, Tamiko! How long have you been standin’ there? You could have just come on in.”

“You were busy talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” Tamiko said, stepping into the room. “Were you talking about Ichigo and his mother?”

Orihime tried to smile, but sadness hung in her eyes. “Yeah, Tatsuki’s been telling me about what happened to her. We just got to how close they were.”

“Come on and have a seat.” Tatsuki waved her in, and Tamiko sat cross-legged on the floor.

“Oh. Brought these,” she said, holding out the cookies. “Didn’t feel right to come empty-handed. I hope you both like them.”

“I do!” A beaming smile lit up Orihime’s eyes. “They look great, Tamiko.”

Tatsuki took the box with a smile. “You didn’t have to bring anything. But thanks.”

The box was ripped open. After everyone had a cookie, Tatsuki continued her story. She didn’t know all of the details of what happened, but it was still a heartrending tale.

Six years ago, Ichigo and his mother were walking home from the local dojo. It was pouring down rain, having done so for several days straight. The riverbank, not far from their destination, was where it happened. A sudden death. No cars were involved. Tatsuki never mentioned another person being involved either.

Tamiko couldn’t deny the first thought that popped into her head, ‘A Hollow.’ If even back then, Ichigo had reiryoku, he would have been a prime target for them. She clutched her arms, staring at the floor. Wouldn’t he have known, though?

‘Not necessarily,’ she reminded herself. ‘It took me years to start seeing Hollows and spirits after hearing them. He may have no idea what killed his mother.’

“I found him by the riverbank,” Tatsuki continued in a heavy voice. “It looked like he was searching for her, just wandering. Whenever he got tired, he would squat down, but he would soon continue. I can’t remember how many days he did that, but he was out there from morning till night. It was... hard to watch.”

Painful nostalgia surged through her chest. The first day Tamiko had felt strong enough to venture out of the house after the accident, she ran straight to the scene, desperate to find something--anything--without having a clue what. Nothing remained on the street, rain having washed away any blood. She had broken down, heart breaking all over again.

“He blames himself,” she whispered. “He survived while his mother didn’t. That guilt must still haunt him.”

“How sad,” Orihime said softly.

“That’s why he wears that mask every year. To hide it from the rest of the world.”

Tatsuki leaned forward, hands hanging limply. “Makes sense. Probably doesn’t want anyone to worry about him.”

Despite the somber atmosphere, Tamiko laughed lightly. “It does the exact opposite, though,” she said, casting a smile at Orihime. “Right, Orihime? You noticed right away. How tense he was?”

Orihime’s face flushed pink. “Oh. W-well.” She giggled nervously, fiddling with a few strands of her hair. “You noticed right away too, Tamiko.”

‘I see,’ Tamiko thought. ‘She’s not going to openly admit to having a crush on him.’

She leaned back on her hands. “Only because you did. Actually, it was that and how he normally acts. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him smile.”

“It’s the only time he smiles,” Tatsuki said, seeming to lean lower. “After his mother died, he stopped smiling altogether.”

The words of her father rang in Tamiko’s mind, ‘Never stop smiling. Rain or shine, you smile.’

“Must be hard,” she whispered, “to go without smiling so much. I’d never be able to do that. Smiling is too important.” To prove her point, she grinned widely.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Orihime said, echoing the expression. “We’ll do all of the smiling for him.”

Tamiko sprang up. “Yeah! Make the world a brighter place for him and...” Trailing off, she looked down. Why had she been about to speak Uryu’s name? Now that she thought about it, he never smiled either. Not even so much as a grin.

‘Right, he only has his father,’ she thought. ‘That means he’s lost his mother too. I wonder when that happened.’

“Is something wrong, Tamiko?” Orihime asked.

The smile returned as she looked up. “No, I just got lost in thought,” she said. “I was saying that our smiling would make the world brighter for Ichigo and everyone else.”

Orihime’s own smile grew. She reached out and snagged another cookie.

A quick glance at her watch, and Tamiko’s smile transformed into another frown. Nearly two in the afternoon. She has never been this late visiting her father before. “I hate to do this, but I have to be somewhere.”

“That’s alright,” Tatsuki said with a wave of her hand. “If you’ve got somewhere to be, then you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Sorry if we ate up too much of your time,” Orihime said, mouth covered with cookie crumbs.

“No, not at all.” Tamiko lightly chuckled. “Just that I meet up with my dad every Sunday. It’s the only time we get to see each other, and I don’t want him to be worried about me.”

Orihime beamed, licking the crumbs away. “That’s great that you get to spend some time with your dad. Please, give him our regards!”

“I will. For sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clouds hung heavy above her, thunder rumbling in the distance. ‘It’s going to rain,’ Tamiko thought on her way to the hospital. ‘I didn’t bring my umbrella. Maybe it’ll be over before I am ready to leave.’

In six years, nothing has changed. Tamiko took her place at her father’s bedside and held his hand. Two weeks have passed since she saw him last, so there was plenty of stuff to talk about.

“We had Machiko’s wake. Back home,” she whispered, voice breaking. She took a deep breath before plowing on, “A lot of her friends came, and I felt horrible for taking her away from them. They miss her so much, and I-I ran out. Everything must have hit me at once, I guess.”

A Hollow’s presence tugged at her. Tamiko looked out the window. The clouds were even darker, thunder growing louder. Somewhere, the Hollow’s reiatsu clashed with Ichigo’s. Even from such a far distance, it was enough to make her feel ill. She took yet another deep breath.

“Ichigo’s fighting now,” she reported to her father. “I suppose I shouldn’t tell you about that, considering you’re probably just an ordinary human. But, Daddy... I’m terrified. Rukia says that he’s gotten better, but what if...?”

Trailing off, Tamiko shuddered. She couldn’t bear to put into words what might happen. Ichigo was her friend, her first true one. He had family and other friends that cared for him as well. The Hollow was strong, stronger than any of the others he has faced.

To get her mind away from the line of thought, she continued, “Speaking of Rukia, could she really be keeping so many secrets? Ones that will hurt anyone that gets close to her? I don’t know, but she did mention that Urahara wiped the memories of our classmates to protect them. That they’re likely to get hurt because of everything.”

Another pause, and Tamiko lowered her head. A memory snapped her back up, and she managed to laugh.

“Oh, yeah! I haven’t told you about Kon yet. You’ll get a kick out of this.” Throughout her tale of the mod soul, she swore she could see the corners of her father’s mouth turning up slightly. It helped put her mind at ease.

She turned her gaze towards the wall. “I can’t figure Urahara out. Why I can’t sense him like I do everyone else. Mr. Tsukabishi too, now that I think about it. It’s like they can hide their reiryoku.”

When Dr. Ishida’s reiryoku left his office and started down the hallway, Tamiko clamped her mouth shut, not wanting to blab stuff with him in earshot. She wasn’t sure, but something told her that if she breathed a word to him about anything, Uryu would be furious.

There was a soft knock on the door before it swung open. Dr. Ishida strolled in, eyes on Syun’s file. Something seemed off about him. When he looked up, Tamiko noted the dark circles under his eyes.

“Miss Kimura, what a surprise,” he said. “Ever the dutiful daughter, I see. My Uryu could learn a thing or two from you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. His hair stuck up in a few places, as if he had just shook his hands through it. “You should give him more credit. He’s at the top of our class, according to mid term results. There isn’t anything he could learn from me.”

“Ah, but there is. You have the common courtesy to think of someone else other than yourself. Especially on a day such as this.”

When she started to question him, he held up a hand. She closed her mouth and watched him check the machines and her father’s vitals. His movements were stiff, mechanical, as if something weighed down his arms and legs.

As he wrote something down on the file, something on his finger glinted--a silver band. Tamiko stared at it and asked, “What did you mean?”

Dr. Ishida glanced at her. “Hm?”

“What you just said, ‘Especially on a day such as this.’ What did you mean by that?”

The pen returned to its place inside his pocket. “And what makes you think I meant something by it?” he asked.

“You remind me of a zombie.” He raised an eyebrow in reply, and she pointed out all of the details she noticed. “It’s a bit odd for the director of a hospital to look so disheveled.”

“I believe you already have some idea as to what the answer is. Why would I look disheveled today, of all days?”

She squeezed her father’s hand, finger brushing his silver band. “You lost someone close to you today. It’s the anniversary of your wife’s death.”

The corners of Dr. Ishida’s mouth twitched slightly. “No.”

“It isn’t?”

“You are close, though.” He tucked the file under his arm as he strolled towards the door.

“How close?” Tamiko asked, watching him pause in the doorway.

“Six years ago today, my wife fell ill. A coma that she never woke up from.” With that, he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain fell in sheets. Tamiko raced through town, not caring about getting soaked. All she could think about was that Ichigo was in danger. ‘I have to do something,’ she thought, but what that something was, she couldn’t imagine.

Not long after Dr. Ishida left, she noticed a change in Ichigo’s reiatsu. Normally, it was so loud it nearly drowned everything else out; however, it has weakened, quieted. There could only be one reason for that: he was losing.

After a hasty farewell to her father, she had dashed straight into the deluge. Goosebumps rose on her arms. Her heart pounded and lungs burned from the exertion. She had no clue where she was going, only following the weakening signal that Ichigo gave off.

“Kimura!” a voice shouted, and someone snatched her wrist.

They yanked her away from the street just as a car drove by. The breath caught in her throat, eyes widening and watching the car disappearing down the street. Again. It almost happened again. She trembled and tried to hug herself, but her wrist was still caught in someone’s grasp.

A hand with a cross around its wrist clutched hers. Uryu scowled down at her, holding an open umbrella in his other hand.

“I-Ishida,” she whispered.

“What were you thinking!?” he snapped, and she flinched. “Do you have no regard for your personal safety? Clearly not, considering you’re running around in the middle of the pouring rain. Are you trying to make yourself sick?”

Tears swam in her eyes. “I-I,” she stammered. “I’m sorry! I thought I could outrun it.”

“Outrun it?” His eyes widened slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way you could outrun a car! Again, what were you thinking?”

Like the rain around them, tears poured down her face. He dropped her wrist, and Tamiko crumpled into a crouch. She pressed her hands against her eyes and sobbed.

It should have gone like that, shouldn’t it? Her father should have caught and lectured her. No accident or coma. He didn’t. Why? She wailed, not wanting to blame her father when the whole thing was clearly her fault.

“Kimura,” Uryu whispered. “Look at me.”

Hands slipped away from her eyes, and she took in a much softer look in his. He held out a handkerchief. “Look. It’s alright. Just clean yourself up, and I’ll take you home.”

She nodded and wiped her face dry. He wrinkled his nose when she blew hers a couple of times.

“Pricking yourself, not eating properly, running in the middle of the pouring rain, and nearly getting run over by a car,” he listed with a sigh. He pushed his glasses back into place. “You didn’t strike me as the reckless type, Kimura.”

“If that’s how you define reckless behavior, you must not get out enough,” Tamiko said. She grinned when his eyebrow twitched.

“How often I get out is irrelevant.” He rose. “I’m saying you should be more careful. Seems like you’re bound and determined to put yourself right back in the hospital.”

“No, it’s just that...” She trailed off, shuddering against the Hollow’s strengthening reiatsu. “There’s a Hollow. A really strong one.”

“You can sense it?”

With a nod, she fumbled with the damp handkerchief. “Ichigo’s hurt. His reiatsu has gotten weak, so I thought...”

“Thought you could jump in and save him?” Uryu asked, voice as sharp as a knife. “Then I was mistaken. You aren’t reckless. You’re suicidal.”

Glaring, she stood and pointed to the cross around his wrist. “What about you then? You can fight Hollows. Why don’t you help him? Quincies protect people from them, right?”

“A Quincy doesn’t protect or work with Soul Reapers, Kimura,” he growled, his cold glare sending more tremors through her. “I will not involve myself in Kurosaki’s battle.”

There was a distant howl. While she jerked towards it, he merely glanced. Maybe Ichigo was beginning to gain the upper hand? But his reiatsu still felt so weak. Tamiko faced Uryu. “What if he dies?”

“If Kurosaki dies, then he wasn’t worth my time.”

“What are you talking about?” she swallowed as realization set in. “You don’t mean that you plan to fight Ichigo?”

He turned away from her, keeping the umbrella over her head. “What of it? Would you run off and tell Kurosaki about me if I answered?”

“No,” she said, and he glanced back, surprise softening his eyes. “I already said that it isn’t my place to tell your secrets. If you have a problem with Ichigo, then that’s between the two of you.”

“So you won’t get involved? Even though I’m threatening your friend?”

“I’ll keep the promise I made to you. I won’t tell Ichigo your secrets, but I refuse to make any promises not to get involved. If you intend to hurt him, I will not hesitate to do everything I can to put a stop to it. He’d do the same for me.”

His hands tightened into fists. “If that’s the case, then that makes you my enemy too,” he said, voice dripping with anger.

She stepped back, swallowing. “E-enemy?” she mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

“Kimura, it would be in your best interest to stay out of it. The battle is between me and the Soul Reapers. Humans have no business getting in the middle of it.”

Tamiko took a deep breath, another distant howl reaching her ears. She squared her shoulders. “A-a little late for that. I am in the middle of it, Ishida, and I don’t intend to back down. Not when two of my friends are about to get hurt.”

“You’ve done your math wrong.” He shook his head. “I’m only threatening Kurosaki. Kuchiki’s far too weak to waste my time with.”

Her laughter rang out over the rain, and he whirled around with a look of pure shook on his face. “Nope. Did the math perfect for once.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. Uryu stared with wide eyes for a full minute before turning away yet again. “I don’t get it. I’m threatening your friend and calling you my enemy. Yet you see me as a friend? You’re as naive as you are reckless.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you to be the cruel type,” she said, and he stiffened at her words. “I may not understand it, but in your mind, your grudge against Soul Reapers is completely justified. One way or another, you’ll work it out, but I don’t want to see you, Ichigo, or anyone else get hurt.”

Everything grew quiet between them with only the rain, passing cars, and Ichigo’s strengthening reiatsu to break the silence. The Hollow’s presence weakened and suddenly vanished. That was different. When defeated, most Hollows gradually disappear. Did it retreat?

Tamiko couldn’t see Uryu’s reaction, only able to see his back as he looked off in the general direction of the fight. She cast her gaze downward, furiously rubbing her arms. Her teeth chattered.

With a heavy sigh, he faced her. “Come on. You will get sick if you don’t get out of those wet clothes and warm up.” He began walking.

“Is that your attempt at a pick-up line? Didn’t you just call me your enemy?” she asked, trailing behind him and managing a half-grin.

“Of course not!” He looked at her with eyes popping out and a pink face. “What on earth would give you that idea?”

He looked even more perplexed at her short burst of laughter. “A joke, Ishida. You know? To lighten the mood?”

Uryu faced forward to continue, muttering, “You are one strange girl. You should be seething.”

“Who said that I’m not?” she asked. “Perhaps the reason you’re holding a grudge is because you’re clinging to far too many preconceived notions.”

“Do not try to understand my anger, Kimura. It doesn’t concern you.”

Tamiko sighed, hugging herself tighter. ‘Maybe if he just confronts Ichigo about everything, it’ll work out,’ she thought. ‘I think he could help him.’

When her apartment came into view, she remembered something. “Hey, Ishida,” she said, and he glanced back at her. “Now may not be the time, but--”

“If now’s not the time, then don’t bring it up,” he said sharply, facing forward once again.

‘He’s right,’ she affirmed to herself. ‘Now would be the worst time to ask about his mother. There may never be a good time.’ She gripped her arms.

At the door, he pushed up his glasses and stated, “Here we are. Get yourself dried off before you come down with a cold.”

With a nod, she opened the door and stepped inside. “Ishida...” When she turned around, he was walking away. “Wouldn’t you like some tea or something?”

“No, thank you. You’re my enemy, remember?”

“Says the boy who went out of his way to walk me home,” she shot back. “And, I promise you, I’ll prove that I’m not your enemy!”

There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition to what she said. He disappeared around the corner, his reiatsu going with him. She sighed and slowly closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Umbrella in hand, Tamiko headed back out into the torrent. Two bouquets of bright, yellow chrysanthemums were purchased at the supermarket. Using Ichigo’s reiatsu as a guide, she made her way up to the cemetery.

When she reached a steep hill, she froze. With a pounding heart, she repeated to herself, ‘Don’t think about it.’ She walked up, directing her gaze straight ahead.

The rain slacked off to a drizzle. By the time she saw Ichigo, it stopped altogether. He was soaking wet with bandages on his cheeks. No other wounds could be seen, possibly having been healed by Rukia.

He looked up when Tamiko snapped her umbrella shut. “Tamiko,” he said, “What are you doin’ out here?”

“Came to pay my respects.” She held up one of the bouquets with a smile; she crouched and gently set it on the grave.

‘Masaki Kurosaki,’ she read. ‘Date of Birth: June 9th, 1966. Date of Death, June 17th, 1995.’ Young. She had died so young, leaving behind three small children. Tamiko’s heart shattered, so she looked away.

“How did you know, Tamiko?” Ichigo asked, voice soft. “About my mother?”

“Tatsuki. She told Orihime and I about her.”

He sighed. “I wish she hadn’t.”

Tamiko adjusted her hold on the other bouquet. “Orihime was worried about you,” she explained. “Tatsuki was only putting her mind at ease, so please don’t be mad that she told us.”

Silence. She looked up to meet his sad eyes.

“I’m not mad.” He nodded to the flowers. “My mother would have loved them. She enjoyed bright colors.”

“Then I believe your mother and I would have gotten along well,” Tamiko said, face lighting up with a small smile.

“Yeah. You would’ve.”

Again, silence. She glanced back at the grave and bowed her head, offering a silent prayer. Lifting it, she asked, “Do you still blame yourself for what happened?”

“How did you know that I was?”

Tamiko giggled softly, looking back at him. “I know some things. Although, maybe too much.” She paused, Uryu’s threat flitting through her mind. “Also, I suspect how she died. It was--”

“A Hollow,” Ichigo finished. A low growl emitted deep from his throat, and she looked back to see him clenching his fists. “I fought him today, and I couldn’t kill him. That bastard got away with killing her. I’ll get stronger. To defend those targeted by Hollows. I will never let another person go through what you and I have, Tamiko. I swear it!”

For a moment, Tamiko caught a glimpse of the young boy who wandered up and down the riverbank. He hadn’t been looking for his mother or evidence. No, he had been searching for her killer.

“Then you will, Ichigo.” She stood, allowing the smile to return. “I know it. And your mother? She’s proud of the young man you’ve become.”

A ghost of a smile flickered on Ichigo’s face, but it was gone in an instant. “Thanks.”

What followed was a comfortable silence. It reminded her of the first day she met Ichigo. She rose, casting a sad smile in the direction of the grave before taking a step closer to him.

“Tamiko!?” a voice from above called. They blinked up, Ichigo scowling. In a tree up the hill, Rukia sat with Kon on top of her shoulder. He waved one of his paws, crying out, “My sweet Tamiko. Hi!~”

Laughing softly, Tamiko waved back. “Hello, Kon! Kuchiki! Lovely weather, huh?”

“Good evening, Tami--” Rukia began to say, but Kon hopped down into her lap.

“It is now that you’ve arrived! You bright up even the darkest...” He trailed off as she shoved him into her backpack. “Owww, Rukia! I was just complimenting my--ow!”

“It’s rude to interrupt other people,” she said, a deadpan look crossing over her face. The bag bulged and shook, his screams absorbing into the material. With a sigh, she closed it. Her face brightened into her usual polite smile. “Good evening, Tamiko!”

While Tamiko covered her mouth to chuckle, Ichigo sighed. “Sorry about, Kon,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He won’t shut up about you bein’ his girlfriend or some garbage like that. Tried tellin’ him that you aren’t, but it doesn’t do any good.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.” She waved it off, still chuckling lightly. The other bouquet was held up. “Anyway, I should be going. I have someone else to visit.”

“You know someone else out here?”

“Not personally. Just another friend’s mother. I want to pay my respects to her while I’m here. Assuming I can find the grave. Hey, do you happen to know...”

Trailing off, reiatsu tugged at her senses. She looked in the direction of it, brows furrowing.

“What’s wrong, Tamiko?” Ichigo asked. “You were asking somethin’?”

“No, that’s okay. I think I can find my way after all. See you at school tomorrow?”

A nod answered her. He gave her a concerned look. “Are you going to be okay exploring this place? It has some big hills. Would you like me to come with you?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. This is something I should do alone.”

“I understand. Take care, alright?”

Tamiko waved her umbrella in farewell to him, Kon, and Rukia. Leaving them, she followed the beacon of reiatsu. It was good not to have Ichigo tagging along. She wasn’t about to force their confrontation. Not today and not in a cemetery.

A big hill stood before her. Uryu’s reiatsu was at the top, but it was beginning to grow distant--he must have sensed her coming. She found herself grateful, but guilty, that he was leaving. It was best for her to visit the Ishida plot alone.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. One foot was placed on the stairs, then the other. With each step she took, she breathed in and out, only allowing herself to focus on her destination and not the growing distance. When she arrived, she collapsed in front of the tombstone.

There were three names listed on the stone. The first appeared to be an older lady, having been born in the early 40s. Most likely Uryu’s grandmother. She had died in the late 80s, when Uryu would have been a toddler.

The second name was that of a much younger woman. ‘Kanae Ishida. Date of Birth: August 24th, 1964. Date of Death: September 17th, 1995.’

So Uryu’s mother did die. Exactly three months after she fell into a coma. The same year as Ichigo’s mother, besides.

“I guess Tatsuki was the only one to have a good year,” Tamiko said softly, tears blurring her vision. She rubbed them so she could see the third name. “Huh?”

‘Soken Ishida. Date of Birth: March 22nd. Date of Death: July 18th, 1996.’ No year of birth. Odd, but she shrugged it off--likely that he didn’t want anyone to know his exact age; people were strange like that. Instead, she stared at the date he died.

“Only a year later,” she whispered, leaning back on her heels. “Who could you have been? A brother, uncle, or grandfather? I guess I can’t know for sure without knowing how old you were when you died.”

Back to back deaths. First Uryu’s mother then this mysterious person. No wonder Uryu seemed so angry all of the time. Half of his family vanished over the course of two years, when he was very young.

Tamiko gently placed the chrysanthemums down. “I guess these are for all three of you. Sorry. I suppose I should have expected more than one name. To be honest, I don’t know much about your family.”

She paused with a nervous laugh. “Maybe I ought to introduce myself, huh? My name is Tamiko Kimura, and I’m a classmate--friend--of Uryu’s.” The sound of his first name caused her to pause again. She glanced down. “I also know his father, Dr. Ishida? He performed a surgery that saved my life last month. He and Uryu don’t seem to be on good terms, though. I hope it’s not because of your passings.”

Once again, she halted, her voice getting shaky. It was a bit odd to be talking to a tombstone. Likely their souls had long passed over to the Soul Society.

“I also hope that your deaths aren’t the reason why Uryu has a grudge against Soul Reapers,” Tamiko resumed. “Or that you taught him to hate them. I guess I don’t know that much about Quincies either. I just know that Uryu believes himself to be the last one. He seems lonely.”

Her voice broke. She took in a deep breath, the smell of rain hanging in the air. It gave her the courage to smile and look at the grave.

“You have my word that I won’t let him be lonely anymore. I will do everything I can to make sure he doesn’t get hurt or doesn’t hurt anyone else. Whatever happens... I’ll be there for him. I promise.”

The world became a little brighter. She looked up to see the clouds breaking apart and moving away from a crescent moon. Her laughter rang out.

“Can I take that as a sign of your blessings?” she asked. She bowed. “Thank you. I promise to always be Uryu’s friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did the beginnings of I did this part of Bleach justice. I love the stories of Isshin, Masaki, Ryuken, and Kanae, and I hope to do more with them and how they reflect in their children's lives.


	7. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With finals around the corner, Tamiko resolves herself to being Uryu's friend and getting a high score on exams. Are either of those things possible? Could Uryu's sudden appearance at Don Kanonji's show evidence to the former? Or is he stalking someone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

The sun beamed down, all of the clouds from the day before gone. Tamiko made her way to school with purpose, knowing what needed to be done. Her emotions fluttered between heart leaping excitement and stomach clenching fear. It reflected in her steps, one moment sprinting and the next dragging her feet.

By the time she reached the school, her hands were shaking. She clasped them behind her back and painted a large smile on her face. Right beside Uryu, she chimed, “Good morning, Ishida! Looks like the rain finally stopped, huh?”

He responded with silence while the rest of the room buzzed around them. Her smile dripped down into a frown, seeing his expression unchanged from the normal intense glare.

Tamiko watched him turn the page of the book he was reading. The cross swung and tapped against his wrist. A ‘sacred family heirloom’ he called it. That meant he must have inherited from one of the family members who have passed away? His mother? Or Soken Ishida?

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Kimura?” Uryu asked, not looking away from his book.

She jerked back, holding up her hands. “Y-yeah. Have a good day,” she whispered and rushed off to her seat.

When she greeted him the next day, he ignored her again.

The third day yielded no response as well, but she wasn’t deterred. That afternoon contained Home Handicrafts, and she knew exactly what she wanted to work on.

Within the club room, Orihime and Michiru joined her. They brought their own projects, but they laid forgotten on their desks. Instead, two pairs of eyes watched as Tamiko cut and sewed together pieces of blue fabric.

“Wow, that’s really good,” Michiru said, eyes widening in wonder. “How can you sew so fast and keep your stitches even, Kimura?”

Tamiko glanced away from her project and shrugged. “I’ve been sewing ever since I was little. Guess my hands just took to it.”

Her gaze returned to her stitching, not wanting to prick herself again. After she finished a row of stitches, she glanced up towards Uryu. He was facing forward, likely still buried within the same book he had when she walked into the room.

“What are you making, Tamiko?” Orihime asked, her face filling Tamiko’s vision as she leaned forward. “It looks like a bird.”

“That’s right. A little blue bird.” Tamiko held it up. The tiny body was nearly whole. All that was missing were the wings and tail.

A beaming smile was cast on it. “Aww, it’s going to be so cute when it’s finished,” Orihime said, putting her hands together.

“Adorable,” Michiru agreed.

“I hope so.” Tamiko resumed stitching.

After an hour of work, the bird remained unfinished. She carefully stowed it into her bag and carried it all the way home. It remained there until the last of her homework was completed.

Midnight arrived before she finished the bird. She leaned back, admiring her work with a smile. A simple, blue bird with a white cross over its breast peered back at her.

Something caught her attention, turning her towards the window. Reiryoku drew closer; it turned to go in another direction before disappearing in the distance. Her chin rested on the back of the chair.

‘That was Ishida,’ she thought. ‘What was he doing nearby so late? He couldn’t be stalking me, could he?’

She shook her head. There was a convenience store near where she had first sensed him. It seemed more likely that he had been getting a midnight snack. He had the right idea, but a yawn worked its way out. Perhaps another time, when her bed wasn’t calling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, Tamiko walked into the classroom with her hands behind her back. They clutched the little bird gingerly as she stepped up to Uryu, his nose back in a book. “Good morning, Ishida!”

It was no surprise that he didn’t answer. He appeared to be completely focused on his book, eyes moving from right to left.

Not discouraged, she continued, “Remember the bird I started on in Home Handicrafts yesterday? I finished it. And it’s yours!” Gently, she set it on the desk.

Again, nothing. She frowned and sighed before shuffling to her seat. For several minutes, she watched Uryu, waiting for a sign that he did anything with the bird. The only movement she could make out was twitch of the arm, him turning to the next page.

Out of nowhere, Orihime slid into her vision with a cheerful, “Bohahaha!”

Tamiko slammed against her chair, blinking at Orihime’s arms crossed over her chest. It took two seconds for her to recognize Don Kanonji’s signature pose.

“Good morning!” Orihime said, leaning her head slightly to the side. “Did you hear? Don Kanonji is going to have a live show right here in Karakura Town.”

“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it. Do you like Ghost Bust, Orihime?” Tamiko’s shoulders lowered as a smile drifted across her face.

Orihime’s eyes shone. “Yeah, I’m a huge fan! It’s so cool how he guides spirits to heaven.”

‘Does he even have enough reiryoku to see spirits?’ Tamiko wondered, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Are you going to attend the show, Orihime?” she asked.

“Yeah. Tatsuki and I are going to go together. Why don’t you join us? It should be lots of fun.”

“Sounds like it. Sure, I’ll go.”

Her answer sent another sparkle through Orihime’s eyes. They were casted over her shoulder when Ichigo walked into the room. “Oh! There’s Kurosaki!”

With a wave to Tamiko, Orihime rushed over to him and repeated Kanonji’s pose and laugh. His response was a twitching eyebrow and bulging eyes.

Tatsuki stepped up behind Orihime and lifted her arms into the air. When she dragged her away, Ichigo let out a breath. He turned and was accosted by Mizuiro and Keigo brandishing arms over their chests. Both eyebrows twitched, and Ichigo walked stiffly, like a wooden puppet, to his seat.

‘I guess he doesn’t like the show,’ Tamiko thought, giving a smile along with her wave to him. ‘Can’t say I blame him. Especially now.’

If she could be honest, she didn’t much care for Don Kanonji and his show. She watched an episode of it with Machiko, who ran her fingers through her ponytail when he proclaimed to be sending a spirit to heaven by jabbing his staff into the air. The show was turned off immediately, and Ghost Bust was banned in their apartment.

When Tamiko questioned it, Machiko gave her a dark look. It was the first time she had ever gave her such an expression, so the subject was never brought up again.

She was curious to know what had distressed her sister so much, and she almost dreaded it. Although, it was entertaining to watch everyone else get excited for it. The rest of the week, the classroom rang out with “Bohahahas.” Even Chad got in on it, minus the laugh.

All anyone could talk about was the show. Apparently, Keigo invited Rukia to attend with him, Mizuiro, and Chad. Ichigo insisted that he wasn’t going.

With all of the excitement, something became clearer to Tamiko. No one spoke to Uryu about the show. In fact, no one seemed to notice him at all. Including Ichigo, who walked by his desk every single day. Each time he did, Uryu’s reiatsu flared to life; the air grew thick as it clashed with Ichigo’s.

So when school ended for the day on Saturday, Tamiko intercepted him in the hallway. Uryu paused, regarded her a moment, and moved to walk around her; she quickly stepped in his way. A second attempt ended in the same result, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

“What is it, Kimura?” he asked.

“I just wanted to invite you to the live airing of Ghost Bust this coming Wednesday.”

“Aren’t you planning to go with Inoue and Arisawa?”

“Yeah.” She failed to suppress the involuntary giggle. “But I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you joined us. That is, if you don’t mind hanging out with three girls.”

He turned away. “No thanks. I don’t partake in such things.”

“What such things? Don Kanonji’s show or hanging out with three girls?”

“Both,” he said, pushing up his glasses. “And have you already forgotten? You’re my enemy. Going on outings is not something enemies do.”

She glared and said, “You forget that this whole ‘enemy’ business is unrequited.”

He shot back with, “So is being friends.”

They stared each other down. He folded his arms, coldness glazed over his eyes. She returned it with a sneer, and then burst out laughing. His composure shattered, arms dropping and eyes widening.

“Look at us, staring like we’re about to draw on each other in a showdown,” she said, hand forming into the shape of a gun. She pointed it at him. “Bang!”

“Can’t you take anything seriously?” he asked after a moment of baffled silence. “Kimura, don’t you have more important things to attend to?”

Her hand lowered. “What do you mean?”

“Finals.” Her eyes widened at such a simple word. He straightened and adjusted his glasses. “They’re only two weeks away, and you’ve missed a lot of school this term. Is it wise to be wasting your time like this?”

It felt like a knife pierced through her heart. ‘Am I wasting my time?’ she wondered, arms wrapping around herself. ‘No. I refuse to give up. I’m not backing down without a fight. Not again.’

Uryu seized the opportunity to walk by her. “Anyway, you cannot be friends with everyone. Wouldn’t you say that you have plenty, besides?”

“You’re wrong, Ishida!” She whirled around to see him freezing mid step. “I’m not wasting my time. I’ll prove that I can be your friend and still get high marks on my finals!”

He expelled a heavy sigh. “Do as you please, but I won’t be held responsible for your misguided actions.”

With that, he continued and disappeared down the stairs. She sensed every step he took until his reiryoku faded from her perception.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Face to face with Dr. Ishida, Tamiko burned with questions about Uryu and Quincies. Throughout the examination, she managed to hold her tongue. She only uttered simple answers to questions concerning her health.

“The latest x-rays show that everything has made a full recovery,” Dr. Ishida said when he returned to the examining room. He put the results on a lit screen and pointed out her healed sternum, ribs, and lungs. “Remarkable, considering the severity of your condition.”

“Does that mean I can resume attending bojutsu classes at the dojo?” she asked, leaning forward. “There’s a class this evening, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“I see no reason why you shouldn’t. The exercise will help restore your muscles, but pace yourself. Don’t try to do too much at once. Understand?”

“Yes. I understand.”

He turned to take the x-ray down. “Although, if you’re going to resume normal physical activity, you need to eat better.”

Tamiko jerked into a straighter position. “I’ve been eating well,” she said hastily.

His cold eyes pierced right through her, sending shivers down her body. “Your weight is down five pounds since I saw you last,” he said. “Tell me the truth now. Have you been eating three times a day?”

“Of course.”

“Full meals or snacks?” When she didn’t answer, he tapped his pen against the table. “Miss Kimura, I shouldn’t have to stress the importance of a well balanced diet. You’re old enough to figure that out on your own.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do better. Promise.”

“See that you do,” he said, jotting something down in her chart. “I am going to refer you to another physician now that you’ve recovered, so this is our last visit with each other. However, he will be under strict orders to keep me informed of your condition. Bear that in mind when you see him.”

She watched him stride out of the room. With a sigh, she hopped off to change back into her uniform.

Next on her schedule was the aforementioned bojutsu class. She received a warm welcome by the sensei before falling into the familiar rhythm of echoing his demonstrated techniques. He would stand back and watch the students repeat movements, making corrections to their stances and grips as needed.

Determined to learn all that she could, Tamiko placed her entire focus into the lesson. When it was time to repeat, she went through the motions. Grip the staff firmly with both hands, her right facing away, left towards her. The staff moved horizontally behind her head. Staring at an empty space in front of her, she swung it. One spin, and the staff came to a stop on the opposite side.

“Good, Miss Kimura,” the sensei complimented. “Looks like you’ve already got that one down. Keep practicing.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her face flushed up from the compliment and physical activity.

At the end of class, she felt sore and exhausted. Despite that, happiness surged through her.

‘If I can work hard enough, I might be able to defend myself against Hollows,’ she thought, grinning at the sky. ‘Maybe I won’t be such an easy target anymore. For them or anyone else.’

The next morning, Tamiko woke up to her entire body screaming. Each movement made it louder despite how slowly she moved. The mere idea of walking across town to Tatsuki’s made her want to curl up and go back to sleep.

‘I’m not going to make it to the hospital either,’ she realized and sighed. ‘Good thing I popped in after my appointment yesterday.’

Eventually, she got herself out of bed and downstairs. After a simple breakfast, she called Tatsuki to let her know she’d be unable to make it.

“Hey, I understand,” Tatsuki said. “You had a big workout last night. That’s bound to exhaust anyone. Try takin’ a hot bath. Thirty-three degrees is the perfect temperature for soothing sore muscles.”

“That sounds nice, assuming I can drag myself back up the stairs.” Tamiko chuckled lightly. “Thanks, Tatsuki.”

“No problem.” There was a brief pause. “I think Orihime’s at the door now. I’ll let her know that you aren’t feelin’ well.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Tamiko hung up and sighed.

She hated to ditch her friends like that, especially when she has only hung out with them once. At least there was Kanonji’s show to look forward to. Although, apprehension still squirmed inside her about what she may see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The decrepit, abandoned hospital stood before the crowd. Waves of excited chatter washed through them as they eagerly waited for the show to start. Among them were the classmates of 1-3 and Ichigo’s family. Mizuiro, Keigo, Chad, Orihime, Yuzu, and Dr. Kurosaki crossed their arms and belted out a “Bohahaha!”

Ichigo and his sister had the same look of disdain on their faces. Karin looked away from her family, pretending not to know them. Apparently they only came because their father and sister loved the show so much.

Tamiko held her arm behind her back, smiling at the scene. She wore a graphic tee depicting a frog character saying, “Ribbiting,” and a pair of cotton pants.

‘They really are close. To attend a show they hate just for their sake,’ she thought, walking behind Orihime to join Tatsuki in the crowd. All day, Orihime gushed about how thrilling the show should be. ‘It’s good to see everyone smiling.’

Tatsuki had found a great spot where they could clearly see the front doors of the hospital. Tamiko stood beside Orihime, watching the crew begin setting up the lights and cameras. The moment one stepped in front of the doors, a howl reverberated through the air.

Her eyes popping out of their sockets, Tamiko darted around. A Hollow? It sounded like one, but she couldn’t sense any. A louder cry pierced her ears, and her hands jumped to cover them.

“Is something wrong, Tamiko?” Orihime asked, worry wrinkling her brow.

“Yeah, you look sort of pale,” Tatsuki said, leaning forward to look at her. “Are you feelin’ alright?”

“I’m fine,” Tamiko said, hands slipping away. She flashed them a reassuring smile. “This place is just kind of spooky.”

Orihime nodded, eyes lighting up. “It’s real spooky! I bet there are all sorts of creatures lurking around here. Like a two-headed cat, a giant skeleton, and evil witch with soba noodles for hair.”

“Don’t forget the man that she turned into a giant frog.” Tamiko fell into a fit of giggles.

“And he’s waiting on his beautiful princess to kiss him and turn him back into a prince!”

Tatsuki rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “Honestly, you two.”

Their laughter came to a screeching halt when the scream came again. A spirit materialized in front of the hospital. The chain attached to him wound around the building. Her heart thudded when Tamiko saw that it was beginning to fall away.

‘He’s almost a Hollow,’ she thought, swallowing. She looked around, grabbing hold of her wrist. ‘Could he become one and put all of these people in danger?’

The spirit wailed and flashed a middle finger at the crowd. Someone clearly wasn’t happy with them leering at him, even if they couldn’t see anything. Though, many people shuffled their feet, murmuring about feeling uneasy. They could sense the spirit?

“Now I’m hearing somethin’,” Tatsuki said, face turning sour. “Sounds like someone screamin’ his head off. Was that what you heard, Tamiko?”

“Yeah,” Tamiko whispered, keeping her eyes on the spirit.

“It does sound like someone in a lot of pain,” Orihime said, covering her mouth.

Pain? Tamiko gripped her wrist tighter. Was that what bothered Machiko about that episode of Ghost Bust? That whatever Kanonji did had caused a spirit pain? Her heart began to pound against her chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Tamiko?” Tatsuki asked, breaking her thoughts.

Tamiko turned, trying to give them a big smile, but only managing to create half one. “It has to just be the wind. That hospital’s so old and creaky that I bet the wind running through it sounds exactly like someone screaming!”

“This hospital is mine!” the spirit bellowed. “I won’t hand it over to anyone. If you want to come in here, ya have to pay cash. I’ll kill ya if you don’t!”

Orihime frowned, glancing towards the hospital and looking back at Tamiko. Tatsuki crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised.

“I take it you heard that, huh?” Tamiko asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Loud and clear,” Tatsuki said, closing her eyes. “Someone’s definitely yellin’ about that abandoned hospital belonging to him. Just what is goin’ on, Tamiko?”

“Well, it’s like this...” Tamiko started, turning to face them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the broadcast will now begin!” the announcer proclaimed.

“It’s starting!” Orihime’s eyes lit up eyes turned towards the hospital. “Let’s all enjoy the show, okay?”

Tamiko let out a sound that was supposed to be a laugh, but came out more like a squeak. “Yeah. Anyway, I’m sure whoever is yelling is just trying to pull a prank on everyone. They just want to spook us.”

“Maybe,” Tatsuki mumbled.

The show got underway with Don Kanonji leaping from a helicopter. He landed with a flourish, shouting out his catchphrase that echoed through the crowd. His javelin was brandished in his hands. With a twirl, he pointed it directly at the spirit.

It hit Tamiko like a truck, a small cry emitting from deep within her throat. She knew exactly what Kanonji had done before and would do again. To her horror, the spirit was stabbed right into the opening in his chest. He shrieked, face contorting with pain. Sweat formed on his head, eyes turning bloodshot. His hands went to grip the sides of his head.

She shrieked as well, taking a step forward. Every muscle in her body seized. Her stomach tossed and turned in on itself. Kanonji had to stop. She had to do something, anything to keep the spirit from becoming a Hollow. “No! Stop it! You’re going to turn him into a monster!”

“What are you talkin’ about? A monst--” Before Tatsuki could finish, Tamiko pushed her way through the crowd. They parted, some willingly while others yelled at her back.

By the time she reached the rope barrier, Ichigo had already hopped over and was in the process of being tackled by security guards. Even Rukia was tackled when she tried to get over.

While the guards were busy with them, Tamiko jumped the barrier and dashed straight for Kanonji. She had to get that staff away from him, get it out of the spirit’s chest.

“Oh? Looks like another fan is trying to get in on the action!” the announcer exclaimed. “Seems she’s taking advantage of the security guard’s distraction. Just what could she be doing?”

“Hey, Tamiko!” Ichigo called in between grunts and groans.

She ignored him, running up to Kanonji and grabbing his javelin. His head snapped towards her. “Just what do you think you’re doing, young lady?” he asked. “You’re getting in the way of sending this spirit to heaven!”

“That isn’t what’s going to happen at all.” She groaned, unable to break his tight hold. “He’s going to become a--”

Kanonji’s hands ripped away from the staff. The sudden lack of resistance sent her stumbling and landing with a plop on the ground, clutching the weapon. A few feet away, Ichigo and Kanonji were rolling around on the ground. Out of relief, she exploded with laughter and snorts at them.

When she turned towards the spirit, her heart stopped. The chain crumbled away. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he screamed in agony. On his skin, cracks broke out. He exploded.

Tamiko coughed against the smoke surrounding her. As it cleared, she saw that the spirit was gone. A Hollow’s reiatsu shook the air. They were too late.

“Yeah, mission accomplished, baby!” Kanonji declared, sending the crowd into an uproar. He lifted his arms and flexed his muscles before going into flourishing twirl. “Despite the interference of two invaders, I successfully sent the spirit to heaven. Oh, yeah!”

Ichigo had a clueless expression on his face. His head turned from side to side, clearly looking for the Hollow. Where did it go?

“Above you!” Rukia shouted. “The Hollow is on the roof!”

With those words, Tamiko sensed the reiatsu gathering above. She looked up, catching as the spirit finished materializing. There was nothing human about him now. It crouched on the edge of the roof, legs resembling that of a frog’s. A white substance erupted from his mouth and eyes, encompassing its entire head. It formed into the skull-like mask all Hollows bore.

Bile surged up her throat, and she choked it back. Now certainly was not the time, not with half the world watching. Tamiko shakily stood up, keeping her eyes on the Hollow.

A tongue slipped out of its mouth, eyes darting back and forth. They appeared to land on her. “It hurts. So much pain. Must devour. I’ll devour your soul!”

Her heart banged as the Hollow hopped off of the building and shot down in her direction. She scrambled up, hands tightening on the staff. Now was her chance. If it was coming for her, she would face it head on.

“Tamiko!” Ichigo yelled, his feet pounding against the dirt. “What are you doing? Run! I’ll take care of it!”

Another pair of feet joined him. “Young lady, my staff!” Kanonji exclaimed. “Toss it to me so I can properly slay that monster!”

When the Hollow came within arm’s reach, Tamiko pivoted to the side. The staff swung out, making contact with the side of the Hollow’s head. It landed, and she took two steps back, staff held in a defensive position.

Before she could even think of striking it again, Kanonji ran directly in front of the Hollow. His hand outstretched towards her, as if he could snatch his javelin from that distance.

“You idiot!” Ichigo drew his Zanpakuto behind him. “You’re right in front of it. Run the other way!”

The Hollow looked between Kanonji and Tamiko. Its tongue shot out, heading straight for who was closest: Kanonji. Just before it could hit him in the head, Ichigo’s sword appeared between them. The tongue splat against the blade, shoving him and Kanonji back.

While it was distracted, Tamiko rushed behind the Hollow. She struck it, skirting back a step when it faced her. The staff was brought down against its mask. The force created a tiny crack while her arms shook.

“Whoa, check out this young lady!” the announcer cried. “She’s wielding the spirit’s staff as if she could be Don Kanonji’s apprentice. Who could this mysterious girl be?”

A low growl hissed from the Hollow. It shook its head and hopped over Tamiko. She watched it ram through the front doors, disappearing into the hospital.

“Tamiko, are you alright?” Ichigo asked, rushing up to her. She nodded and straightened in response. “What do you think you’re doing? You and him should run and let me deal with it.”

Kanonji looked flabbergasted at the thumb jabbed in his direction. “Me? Run away?” he asked, arms jerking up. “I certainly won’t and can’t run away. Now, young lady, while you do possess some skills in handling that staff, you should return it to me.”

She recoiled from his reach, looking between him and Ichigo. A sly smile spread over her face. “Not a chance.”

With her hands tight on the staff, she rushed into the hospital. They were at her heels.

The inside of the hospital was empty with only dust and cobwebs for decoration. Only one light source could be seen: the bright lights set up outside. They casted long shadows across the lobby.

“Are you crazy?” Ichigo asked, stepping in front of her. “You know how dangerous Hollows are, so why are you going after one?”

“Of course I know,” she said, returning his scowl. “I seem to recall three other Hollows that came specifically for me.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, and I seem to recall you getting injured all three times. There’s no need for you to put yourself in danger. I can handle it.”

“I’m not questioning your exterminating skills, Ichigo. I want to fight as well, to keep anyone else from being hurt or killed by one of those things. Besides, you happen to be looking at an orange belt.” To demonstrate, she performed a series of thrusts and spins that even prompted a clap from Kanonji.

When she came to a stop, she and Ichigo stared each other down. She noticed his eyes were a shade darker than her own. After nearly a whole minute, he folded his arms, looked away, and sighed. “Alright, I understand. Just don’t do anything reckless or get in the way. Got it?”

“Now hold on a minute,” Kanonji said, waving his hands frantically. “Have you two forgotten that I am the hero? It’s the two of you who should be running before you get hurt!”

They scowled at him. Ichigo’s brows twitched. He leaned closer to Tamiko. “Does he get on your nerves too?”

“He’s much funnier on TV,” she replied.

Kanonji didn’t appear to hear them, continuing, “Don’t you two realize how much danger you are in by being here? Now, return the spirit’s staff to me, so I can put an end to that beast’s reign of terror!”

“Oh, give us a break,” Ichigo groaned. He pointed at him. “Why should we run while you stay? Explain!”

“Why? That answer is simple, because you see, I am a hero.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to argue further. His words remained on the tip of his tongue as Tamiko put a hand on his arm.

“I think I know why,” she said, and Kanonji raised an eyebrow. “It’s the show, right? I can’t imagine it would do well for ratings if the hero suddenly turned chicken in the middle of a live broadcast.”

Kanonji’s mouth was a round circle. He nodded and held up a finger. “Yes, except you are wrong about one thing. It has nothing to do with ratings. Most of my viewers are young children. To them, I am a hero. When they see me standing up to evil spirits, they know what courage is. With them watching, I cannot run from any enemy.”

A sigh escaped from Ichigo’s mouth. He exchanged a glance with Tamiko, and she gave him an encouraging smile. “Fine, but you better not get in my way either,” he said.

“Yeah! We’ll take down that bad spirit together,” she said, spinning the staff over her head and bringing it to a stop behind her back.

“Then let’s get back outside and finish that monster off!” Kanonji took two steps towards the door before he was jerked back, Ichigo snatching his cape.

“You idiot,” he said. “What will you do if that Hollow goes after your fans? They could get hurt. Your number one concern should be protecting them!”

“But, the cameras...”

Ichigo yanked, causing Kanonji to stumble backwards. “Never mind the stupid cameras! Listen, that thing goes after people with high levels of reiryoku. Meaning, the three of us. If we stay in here, it should stay as well. We’ll fight it here, preventing your audience from becoming victims.”

Kanonji’s sunglasses went askew, eyes widening at him. “Impressive. In the heat of the moment, you were able to think so clearly.” He straightened, putting his glasses back. “Right. Let us be off! Young lady, since you seem talented with that staff, you may hold onto it. I have other means to deal with bad spirits.”

No way had she any intentions of giving up her only weapon. Tamiko let out a cheerful laugh and bowed. “Thank you, sir. I’m honored.”

“So where did the Hollow go?” Ichigo asked, looking around. “It could be anywhere in this massive building.”

That was a good point. She glanced around for an indication of where the Hollow ran off to. No trail could be seen, and she hummed in frustration. She straightened when a realization hit. Couldn’t she sense it earlier?

So she closed her eyes. Ichigo’s and Kanonji’s reiatsu sparked beside her. They were easy to tell apart with Ichigo’s practically buzzing in her ears. The Hollow’s didn’t appear, so it couldn’t be on the same floor. Where was it?

Upon opening her eyes, she found herself looking at the ceiling. “Above us. The Hollow. I think it’s on the fourth floor.”

Ichigo whirled around, eyes poking out of their sockets. “How do you know that?” he asked.

“I just do. I can sense it moving.”

What was it doing up there? It had been desperate to devour them outside, but now it was keeping its distance. Could it be after a spirit? Tamiko shook her head, feeling certain they were the only beings inside the hospital.

“Let me make a proposal,” Kanonji said, gesturing to her. “Why don’t we let her lead the way? Since she seems to know where the monster is hiding?”

His suggestion was met with a firm shake of the head. “No way,” Ichigo said, turning his back on them. “You two stick behind me, and I’ll--hey!”

Not waiting for him to finish, Tamiko bolted. Kanonji was right behind her, both ignoring Ichigo’s yells for them to come back. When she reached the foot of the stairs, she turned and waved to Ichigo.

“Come on, slowpoke! We’ve got a Hollow to hunt!”

Even from several feet away, she could see the vein popping out on his forehead. “S-slowpoke!?” he yelled before running towards them.

The trio climbed up the stairs to the second floor hallway that was just as desolate as the floor below. Tamiko led the way, holding the staff with both hands. As soon as they stepped on the third floor landing, she looked at the ceiling. The Hollow moved closer, hovering directly above them.

When Ichigo started to walk by her, she held out a hand to stop him. “Hang on,” she said, an understanding tensing her muscles. “Now I get it. The Hollow was trying to trap us, catch us off guard while we looked for it. If you take another step, it will crash through the ceiling.”

His brow furrowed, Ichigo glancing up. “You sure? Because I don’t know...”

She took a tiny step forward. “Think about it. It was so gung ho about devouring us earlier, so why is it keeping its distance now?”

“It’s being cautious,” Kanonji murmured. “Must have realized how big of a threat I am to it. How can such a creature be that intelligent, though?”

“May have retained a level of its intelligence. I wouldn’t believe it myself, but there’s no other explanation.” She took another step, then another.

“Wait, Tamiko--” Ichigo was cut off as she broke out into the run.

Cracks formed in the ceiling above, dust drifting down. The Hollow crashed through. Rubble rained down, pelting her. She covered her head and coughed. A piece of ceiling landed directly in her path. Her foot slammed against it, sending her sprawling into the floor. The staff clattered, landing a couple of inches from her hands.

When she looked up, the Hollow was looming over her. Its tongue was out. Her heart thudded. She scrambled to pick herself up.

“Damn it, Tamiko! Didn’t I tell you not to do anything reckless?” Ichigo yelled over the thuds of ceiling and floor still crumbling away. “Are you hurt?”

The Hollow licked its lips, stepping closer to her. She scooted back, hand nudging the staff. Her fingers lanced around it.

“I’m fine!” Tamiko called back. “It’s focused on me. Use that overgrown knife of yours and chop it up.”

“Y-you. Don’t tell me you did that on purpose!?”

“Of course I did. I lured it out so you can attack it like you normally do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” Ichigo grunted. As the dust started to clear away, she could see him scrambling to pull his Zanpakutō out of its sheath.

Tamiko leaped to her feet, holding the staff in a defensive position. “I didn’t think I’d need to!”

“I’m not a mind reader!”

The tongue shot out of the Hollow’s mouth, rocketing towards her. She blocked it. Spit flew up and landed on her hands, searing them. Pain flared, her grip tightening as the tongue wrapped around the weapon. The Hollow began to pull her towards it.

She pulled back and planted her feet firmly on the floor. Neither effort did anything to impede its progress. Inch by inch, she got closer to its gaping maw.

That was when Kanonji appeared. He ran up beside the Hollow, hand outstretched. “Kanonji Kanonball!”

A tiny ball of light came out of the palm of his hand. It drifted towards the Hollow. When it made contact, an explosion rippled through the corridor. The staff went flying out of her grasp, Tamiko slamming onto her back. Disoriented, she stared at the ceiling.

“Miss, are you hurt?” Kanonji asked, his head covering the ceiling as he leaned over her. “Sorry. I had to do something quick.”

In the background, Ichigo grunted. His sword sang through the air, followed by splatter of blood against the floor. The Hollow roared in retaliation.

Tamiko blinked. “I’m fine,” she whispered, pushing herself up. She winced, looking at her hands. Bright red blisters covered them.

“Looks like that monster did a number on your hands,” he said, leaning closer to examine them. He straightened, adjusted his glasses, and brandished the staff that he must have reclaimed in the chaos. “Do not fear! You sit tight, and I’ll protect you. Such a way of fighting truly does befit a hero such as myself. I will die to keep you safe!”

Her head snapped up. “Please don’t.”

There came a scream from Ichigo followed by a loud boom. The hospital shook, dust filling the corridor once again. She shielded her eyes from it, and when it cleared, she saw Ichigo clinging to the hilt of his Zanpakutō for dear life. The Hollow crawled out of a hole in the side of the building, taking him with it.

“L-looks like Ichigo found an elevator that works,” she said, raking rubble out of her hair.

Kanonji reached down and grabbed her by the hand. “Not to worry! We shall take the stairs and be with him in a jiffy!”

She blinked as she was pulled up and dragged down the corridor. Far above them, Ichigo and the Hollow’s pressures stopped on top of the roof. Her heart stopped.

“W-wait.” But her protest fell on deaf ears, Kanonji bounding up the stairs. She pulled back against his hold, but it was hopeless. Nothing she did could stop him.

The door to the roof flew open, a rush of wind blowing her hair. Her vision went in out of focus, Ichigo and the Hollow’s showdown blurring.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, friend!” Kanonji exclaimed, holding up her hand and his staff.

Ichigo looked over his shoulder. “Kanonji? What are you doing bringing her up here!? Get her back downstairs where it’s safe!”

Kanonji swayed on his feet. “Out of the question. I’m already using all of my energy just to keep standing.”

“Then why did you even come up here? Damn it!”

The Hollow roared. It rammed into Ichigo, sending him into a collusion course with the railing. He hit it with a groan, Zanpakutō clanging to the floor.

It couldn’t care less about him. The Hollow hopped towards Tamiko and Kanonji, its eyes focusing on her. She wrenched her hand from his and took off.

Reiatsu flared. Uryu’s. She looked up as she ran, seeing him standing on the neighboring roof. In his hand was a blue light in the shape of a bow. He pulled back, an arrow forming. It was pointed straight at her. She took a shuddering breath.

No. It was pointed behind her. At the Hollow.

She dove to the floor to give him a better opening. The Hollow landed on her back, and she groaned. When its tongue brushed against her cheek, she screamed. Why wasn’t Uryu firing?

“Get off her!” Ichigo roared, feet pounding against the roof.

The tongue receded, and Tamiko looked up. He stood over her, Zanpakutō rising over his head. He brought it down against the tiny crack in the Hollow’s mask, splitting it in two. It fell at his feet, and he sheathed his sword.

“Are you okay, Tamiko?” He asked, turning and holding out his hand.

“I think so,” she said, taking it and standing.

Behind her, Uryu was gone. His reiatsu felt far away. Now that she thought about it, that blue light had felt a lot like the reiryoku that surrounded his cross. Was that how he fought Hollows? Bows and arrows made of reiryoku?

“He did it!” Kanonji’s cheering tore her back to him. He began to dance, spinning the staff over his head with one hand. “Great! Fantastic! I always believed you. As expected of one of my...”

“Don’t,” Ichigo said, head bowing. “You shouldn’t be excited about this.”

“What are you saying?” Kanonji asked, freezing. “You defeated the monster. You should be happy!”

The mask crumbled away, revealing the face of the spirit. Kanonji sputtered. “That can’t be,” he whispered, the spirit fading away. “I was sure that I sent him to heaven. But how?”

“It wasn’t a monster,” Ichigo said, rising his head. A solemn look covered his face. “Normal spirits have chains attached to their chests. When that chain is gone and a hole opens, they transform into a Hollow.”

“No.” Kanonji fell to his knees and hands, defeated. “All this time, I thought that if I opened the hole in the chest and cut the chain, I’d send the spirit to heaven. So what have I been doing all this time? What a fool I have been.”

Tears burned in her eyes. Tamiko walked over and dropped in front of him, a hand going to his shoulder. He glanced at her.

“You didn’t know,” she said, voice breaking. “I didn’t realize it either. About how awful it was for a spirit to become a Hollow. We both learned something, didn’t we?” She offered him a wan smile.

A small grin appeared in return. “Yes, you two have taught me a lot,” Kanonji said. “Thank you.”

Voices surged up from down below. It was hard to make out what they were saying, though. Ichigo walked up, gaze turned to the side. “Can’t you hear them, Kanonji?” he asked.

“Hm?” Kanonji blinked, head turning.

“Your audience is cheering for you. Why don’t you go answer them? Isn’t that part of a hero’s duty?”

The grin grew into a full smile. Kanonji leaped to his feet and rushed to the ledge. He called out to the crowd with a “Bohahaha!”

Ichigo crouched in front of Tamiko, a concerned look softening his eyes. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt too badly, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Tamiko said, lifting her arms to examine them. “I’m a little banged up, but I’m fine. Thank you, Ichigo.”

He shrugged, rubbing his head. “It was nothing. All part of the job.”

She flexed her hands, wincing against the stinging sensation. The blisters had become as big as peas, pulsating angrily. Her cheek burned as well. That stupid tongue. A realization came, and she roared with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Ichigo asked. “Your hands look terrible.”

“It’s not that.” Tamiko pointed at him. “A beautiful princess turned the giant frog back into a human. You!”

“Of course I...” Ichigo trailed off, blinking at her. His expression only made her laugh harder. “Wait. What did you just call me?”

“A beautiful princess.” He scowled in response to her answer. “Aww, where’s your sense of humor? It’s only a joke.”

Just as he opened his mouth to say more, Kanonji slid between them. His face was aglow. “Don’t you hear them, miss? Everyone wants to see you as well. We must give the fans what they want!”

He took her wrist and pulled her up. “W-wait. Please?”

Again, Kanonji ignored her protests and pulled her towards the ledge. She reached back for Ichigo, who blinked again.

“The girl is here too!” Kanonji lifted Tamiko’s hand into the air. “She is perfectly safe, thanks to yours truly!”

Below, the crowd began to chant her name. Tamiko felt her face turning red. How did they learn it?

She made the mistake of looking down at them. Everything spun, spots appearing in her vision. As she swayed backwards, Kanonji let go of her wrist. Arms caught her, preventing her from hitting the floor. She stared up at Ichigo’s eyes.

“Ah, what’s wrong?” Kanonji asked, leaning over her. “Did you get seriously injured after all?”

“No. I’m just terrified of heights,” she said.

“Oh! In that case!” Kanonji pulled her out of Ichigo’s arms, lifting her up into his. “Let me carry you down to safety! It’ll look more dramatic for the cameras!”

Yet again, any protest that Tamiko uttered was ignored. Kanonji bounded for the stairs.

Ichigo growled, running after. “You better not drop her, Kanonji!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What were you thinking when you pried the spirits staff out of Don Kanonji’s hands? Did you think you could handle the spirit on your own? Were you hoping he would take you on as an apprentice if you showed off your skills?”

The questions came at her from all sides, a microphone and camera thrust into her face. Tamiko stepped back, face burning hot. “Y-yes,” she said, “exactly that.”

“Then you were attacked, but you fought with such courage against that bad spirit. Weren’t you scared?”

“Terrified,” she responded. It felt odd, because nothing was a lie. Except for wanting to be Kanonji’s apprentice.

The announcer beamed, gesturing dramatically to Kanonji. “And then Mr. Don Kanonji came in and rescued you. What a hero!”

Kanonji flashed a few poses for the cameras, moving around her in bursts of speed that he didn’t utilize during combat. Tamiko ignored him, standing on her toes to look out over the crowd. Everyone was cheering, chanting his name; a few people even belted out hers.

Somewhere among the throng stood Orihime and Tatsuki. It dawned on Tamiko that she had completely ditched them with no explanation. What must they be thinking about everything? Tears blurred the crowd together.

Urahara’s haori filled her vision. She looked up at the grin spreading across his face. He held his fan in one hand and the cigarette-like device that Rukia used in the other.

“Excuse me, but this is a live show!” Kanonji shouted, freezing with one leg up, one arm upright while the other was held over his chest. He looked around frantically. “Where’s security?”

“I’m afraid that they are indisposed at the moment,” Urahara said, gesturing with his fan towards the mass of huddled security guards. “Not to worry, though. Neither them nor your audience members will come to any harm, and your show will remain intact. I just need everyone to forget about Tamiko. You see, she’s far too young for so much fame. Mustn’t let it get to her head.”

Kanonji sputtered in response, but Urahara turned his grin on Tamiko, snapping the fan shut. His gaze moved towards the cameras and crowd, cupping a hand around his mouth. “Alright, everyone, watch the birdies!”

He pressed the button on the device. The cloud of smoke and little bird sprung out. At that same moment, smoke encased the entire audience and crew. Everyone hit the ground, only Kanonji, Tessai, Jinta, Ururu, Rukia, and Ichigo remained standing.

“What did you do to my audience and crew?” Kanonji demanded, grabbing Urahara’s shoulder and yanking him towards him. “You didn’t hurt them, did you?”

“So you’re immune to the device,” Urahara said, not phased by his actions. He snapped open his fan, glancing down to Tamiko. “No one has been harmed, as I said. They’ll wake up and celebrate the conquering hero who destroyed a bad spirit. It would be in your best interest to play along.”

The chilling look sent Kanonji to shrink back. “Er... yes, of course!”

“There now, Tamiko. I think you’ve had more than enough excitement for one night,” Urahara said, scooping her up with one arm. He turned to Ichigo, who stared at them blankly; Urahara saluted him with his fan. “Nice work, Ichigo! Thanks for keeping her safe, but I’ll be taking over from here. Be sure to get back into your body before everyone wakes up!”

As he bounded away, Ichigo could be heard yelling, “What the hell, Mr. Hat-and-Clogs!? Where are you taking her?”

Tamiko stared up at Urahara, tugging against his iron-like hold. “You know it’s real creepy to knock out a bunch of people and kidnap a teenage girl like this. Any second now, the police are going to come racing up to arrest you.”

A chuckle answered her. “And I can simply change their memories with a push of a button. You can get away with stealing my merchandise, and I can get away with kidnapping you.”

“Gross.” She wrinkled her nose, tugging again to break free. “And I didn’t actually steal anything.”

No more words passed between them for several blocks. Tamiko gave up in her struggle, opting to fold her arms over her chest and scowl at the scenery blurring by. Urahara certainly was fast, faster than most cars. It wasn’t long until he came to a halt in front of the shop.

“What are you, Urahara?” she asked as he stepped inside. He opened his fan and grinned down at her in response, but before he could get any words out, she said, “And don’t give me that line about being just a ‘humble shopkeeper.’ That isn’t going to work.”

The smile disappeared. “Aww, you’re taking away all of my fun,” he whined, carrying her into the room with the large table. He set her down on the cushion. “Just make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”

Before she could utter a response, he disappeared into another room. She sighed, settling into a cross-legged position.

A moment later, he returned, bearing a first aid kit. He opened it and began treating the blisters on her cheek. She hissed as the alcohol came into contact with the injury. A bandage was placed over it, and he moved on to her hands.

“So you couldn’t resist getting involved,” he said, keeping his eyes on his work. “Tell me, Tamiko, do you desire to fight Hollows?”

He looked up, and she met his eyes. “Yes. If I’m going to be a walking target, then I should fight.”

“Even if you get hurt or killed?”

“I’ll get stronger. That way I won’t.”

His eyes dropped back down while he bandaged her hand. “Looks like you’re off to a good start.”

Silence hung between them as he finished treating her injuries. She watched him stow the medical supplies back into the kit. “You wiped everyone’s memories.”

The kit closed with a snap. He held up a finger, “Ah, you are wrong. I merely changed...”

“Not the audience. My classmates. You wiped their memories of Kon. Was it really to protect them?”

Urahara met her eyes again and nodded.

“I want an honest answer. Did you wipe my memories of the day Machiko died? Why?”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, eyes growing serious. She scowled in return, not appreciating how he was treating her like a child. “I did it to protect you as well. Apparently, it failed.”

“How did it fail?” she asked.

“No clue.” He gave an exaggerated shrug and a shake of his head.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Honest, Tamiko,” he said, adjusting his hat and looking her directly in the eye. “I have no clue how your memories could have returned. All I know is that they shouldn’t have. I’ll admit, it is rather interesting.”

“Great. Glad I could keep you on your toes,” she deadpanned, moving to stand.

He shivered, folding his arms to rub them. “Oh, so cold. I take it you’re still angry with me?”

“I think it’s justified. You hid the truth of my sister’s death. If you could wipe people’s memories completely like that, what else could you be capable of?” She paused, looking straight down at him. “Urahara, give me one reason why I should trust you.”

His eyes met hers yet again. He stood to his full height, this time putting his hand on the top of her head. “There isn’t one, Tamiko.”

She hung her head, shoulders lowering. Why did she feel disappointed by his answer? Was it because she wanted to trust him? Her brain kept screaming for her to run. Run from this strange man and never look back. It conflicted with what her heart was saying.

With a shuddering breath, she whispered, “If one ever appears, will you tell me?”

“You have my word.”


	8. Tests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final exams aren't Tamiko's only concern, as the one-sided tension between Uryu and Ichigo reaches a fever point. Help arrives in the form of Machiko's friend from junior high, but is she there to take her place?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character of Sango Daiichi was created by Rose_thejedi_lothcat.
> 
> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

Sunday at Tatsuki’s contained less stories about dead mothers, but a lot more studying. Papers and books lay scattered around the room. Tatsuki sat cross-legged on her bed, brows furrowing over a notebook and book. Orihime sprawled out on the floor, an open book hiding her face. Tamiko huddled against the bed, glaring at her mathematics book.

Voices reached her ears, so she burrowed herself further into the math problem. For the last several minutes, she has been stuck on the same one. No matter how she did it, it came out wrong. Giving in, she peeked at the answer and sighed. It didn’t make any sense!

Maybe it would be best to move over to the next problem. It might be easier. She groaned, realizing that it wasn’t. The book was snapped shut and tossed aside. She blinked and snapped to attention, noticing three pairs of eyes staring at her.

“Sorry,” she hastily said, “Mrs. Arisawa. I must not have heard you come in.”

“That’s alright, dear.” Mrs. Arisawa waved it off. “You looked like you were really into your studies. I brought you girls some snacks.” She gestured to the tray of rice crackers, cookies, and drinks.

“Thank you,” Tamiko said and grabbed a couple of cookies.

“You’re welcome. And I’ll have a large serving of beef and potatoes ready for when you head home.”

“Ooh!” Orihime’s entire face lit up around the cookie crumbs near her mouth. “Her homemade beef and potatoes are super good, Tamiko. You’re going to love them!”

Mrs. Arisawa stifled a soft giggle. “I’ll have some for you as well, Orihime. Tatsuki told me how much you loved it last time.”

“Yay! Thank you!”

A blush warmed her face. “Yes, thank you,” Tamiko said, looking at the cookies in her hand.

“Of course. Study hard now.” Mrs. Arisawa closed the door behind her.

They took a moment to eat and sip. At least, Orihime and Tatsuki did. Tamiko opened her science book and jotted down some notes. Crumbs rained down on the pages before the book was gently pulled off of her lap.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, watching Orihime brush the crumbs off and set the book aside.

“Break time, Tamiko!” she bubbled with a large, sweet smile. “It isn’t good to overload your brain with too much information at once. It could explode!” She picked up the remaining drink and held it out.

“Right. Thank you, Orihime.” Tamiko took the drink, flashing a short grin.

While sipping, she stared down at the pile of books. ‘Algebra, Earth Science, Ancient Japan, Japanese, and English,’ she listed. ‘Who am I kidding? I’ll never be ready in time for finals.’

“Can you believe that Tanabata is next weekend?” Orihime asked, breaking Tamiko away from her thoughts. “We should all go together. We can invite Ryo, Michiru, and Chizuru too. It’ll be a lot of fun!”

“Wow, that is close,” Tatsuki murmured. “Yeah, it’ll be a great way to relax before finals.”

“What do you say, Tamiko?”

“Sure, Orihime.” Tamiko sat up straighter, a realization hitting her. “Your name! You’re named after the princess in the fairy tale, aren’t you?”

Everything about Orihime seemed to sparkle. “Yep! Sora used to tell me that story all the time when I was little. Then we’d attend the festival together. For years, I believed I really was that princess in the fairy tale. I got so mad at him once, because I thought he was keeping my true love away from me.”

The image of a younger version of Orihime yelling at a grown man with her hands on her hips popped into Tamiko’s mind. She chuckled softly at it.

“Actually, I’ve attended the festival here in town with Machiko. It was before I moved in with her. It was tons of fun.” A pang hit her heart. “Oh. We never finished our kimonos for this year...”

Loneliness steamrolled her. It was strange, because the only times she felt it were during breakfast and after a nightmare late at night. Otherwise, she kept herself busy with school, club, bojutsu classes, and studying. Not to mention Uryu’s growing anger towards Ichigo. Seemed Machiko’s death has become the last thing on her mind.

Light pressure landed on Tamiko’s shoulder. She looked up to see Orihime’s bright smile. “They’ll be with us. It’ll be like they’re enjoying the festival too!”

“Yeah,” Tamiko said, returning the expression with a duller grin. “We’ll honor their memories by having a great time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a small level of unfamiliar reiryoku in front of the apartment. Tamiko approached slowly, peering around the corner to see who it could be.

A complete stranger--a woman in jeans and a pink t-shirt--sat on a box in front of the door. Long black hair was pulled into a french braid and draped over her shoulder. She was looking at a watch. After a moment, she looked up to scan the street.

Tamiko studied her, noting the pile of luggage and pair of smaller boxes. Who was she and why was she sitting outside like that? Only one way to find out. She adjusted her hold on the covered dish and approached the woman.

She jumped up, blue eyes sparkling with happiness. “Kimura!” she exclaimed, hands waving. “There you are. I’ve been waiting all afternoon for you to get home. Although, that’s not nearly as long as you’ve waited for me. Sorry that it took me so long to get here. Thought that transfer to Karakura General would never go through!”

“Transfer?” Tamiko glanced down at the luggage. “You’re moving in with me? W-who are you?”

“Huh?” The woman’s hands froze. “You don’t know who I am? Didn’t you get my letter last month? I explained everything in it!”

A letter? Tamiko looked to the mailbox before the memory returned. “I think I might have gotten something like that, but I kind of forgot about it.”

The woman patted her shoulder. “That’s quite alright! You’ve been through a lot lately, what with your sister’s untimely death.” Her voice grew unsteady, and she cleared her throat. “You really don’t remember me? I’m Sango Daiichi! Machiko and I are friends from junior high.”

It clicked into place. When Tamiko looked back, she recognized her. “Ah! You were the first to arrive at Machiko’s wake. Your hair was pinned up.”

“I put it up for work and formal occasions,” Sango explained, face brightening with a large smile. “Anyway, like I said, I would have been here much sooner if it hadn’t been for that blasted paperwork getting caught in the system. Took longer to go through than I had planned.”

“R-right.” Tamiko looked down, taking back in the luggage. Her head snapped up, and she held up the covered dish of beef and potatoes. “Just let me put this in the fridge, and we’ll get your things inside. Then we can talk?”

With the food safely put away, she helped Sango bring in and neatly stack everything in the living room. Tamiko dug the letter out of the pile of old bills and junk mail on the table. She brought it over to Sango, who promptly ripped it to shreds. They were tossed into the air, where they fluttered down to the floor.

Sango covered her mouth to chuckle in response to Tamiko’s open mouth. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean it up later. And I remember everything I had written, so why don’t we have a seat?”

Side by side on the couch, she began her tale. It began a few days following the “accident.” She had yet to hear about it, and in her words it was a “pleasant and earth-shattering surprise” to see Machiko’s spirit in her window.

Tears welled up in Sango’s eyes. “I promised her right then and there that I would do whatever I could to look after you. I transferred to the hospital here, so I wouldn’t be spending nearly three hours a day commuting back and forth to work.”

“Wait, back up.” Tamiko held up a hand to stop her from plowing on. “You said that Machiko’s spirit came to you?”

“Dear. It is a little hard to believe, isn’t it?” she asked, shoulders shaking with laughter. “But I’ve been able to see spirits ever since I was a little girl. Machiko could as well.”

“I know. I can see them too.”

Her entire face let up. “Can you?” Sango bubbled. “You know, now that you mention it, Machiko told me that you could hear them talking. I don’t think she ever mentioned that you could see them.”

“I couldn’t until recently.” Tamiko looked away from her beaming face.

Machiko was gone. That fact winged Tamiko in the head, and tears stung her eyes. And now, someone was here to take her place. It didn’t feel right to want Sango to stay, but it also felt wrong to turn her away when she went to so much trouble to come.

Besides, how many times had Tamiko wished for a roommate? To no longer live here all alone? It wasn’t just that, but she has noticed how quickly the money was depleting. She had figured she had until the end of August, tops, before she couldn’t afford the bills. Even if she managed to find employment, she couldn’t be sure if it would be enough to support herself.

Something else that she ignored in favor of everything else happening around her.

“Are you alright, Kimura?” Sango asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re pale.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Tamiko straightened and flashed a weak smile. “Just thinking about Machiko. How she’s truly gone. I haven’t let myself think about it all that much.”

“I realize this must come as a big shock to you,” Sango said softly, hand moving from her shoulder to rub her back. Tamiko looked away again in response. “I’m sorry. I had intended to inform you of my plans when I saw you at the wake, but you rushed out. Your mother told us to leave you be, but that one guy didn’t listen. Must be a good friend.”

“That’s Ichigo Kurosaki. He looks like a punk, but he’s got a big heart. Needless to say, Mother did not approve.”

A soft giggle came before Sango said, “She glared daggers at the door long after he’d left.”

Feeling mildly better, Tamiko stood and looked to the stack of luggage and boxes. “Why don’t we get your stuff moved up to Machiko’s old room?” she asked. “I haven’t been in there since, so it’s probably been renovated by spiders and dust bunnies.” She managed another wan smile.

“U-up?” Sango asked, brows furrowing.

“Yeah, up the stairs.” Tamiko blinked at her paling face. “Straight towards the front of the apartment. You can’t miss it. It’s the only room with the door closed.”

“S-stairs? Bother,” Sango whispered. She slowly stood and looked around the room. Her eyes settled on a closed door under the stairs; she strode over, opened it, and smiled. Stepping aside, she revealed the storage room containing some of Tamiko’s sewing material and boxes of Machiko’s sheet music. “How about I just take this room here?”

“The storage room? It’s kind of small, though...”

“It’s perfect!” She surveyed it by framing her eyes with her hands. “All it needs is some paint and tidying up, but I can manage that all by myself. For now, why don’t I unpack my cookware and prepare us something to go with that beef and potatoes you brought home? You must be starving. I know I am!”

“Hang on...” Tamiko started to protest, but she walked on by and began tearing open the giant box she had been sitting on. She rummaged through it, pulling out a decent sized wok and taking it to the kitchen. No wonder that box had been so heavy.

After dinner, they both set to work in the storage room. Tamiko gathered up hers and Machiko’s things while Sango brought in her luggage.

“Wait,” Tamiko whispered, looking up from her work. “You don’t have a bed?”

“I can just make one up on the couch tonight,” Sango said, opening a suitcase and arranging various toiletries and hair accessories on the top of the giant box. “It’s no problem at all!”

Tamiko simply nodded and gathered up the rolls of material into her arms. They were taken up into Machiko’s room. After dropping them in the corner, she froze. She had been right, as the room was covered in dust and cobwebs. The air was musty and stale.

At least Sango wouldn’t be taking it over. That was enough to calm her fluttering heart.

Once everything had been moved out of the storage room, Tamiko set to work on tidying Machiko’s room, leaving Sango with her room and the pile of dishes in the kitchen.

Every surface was dusted off and the floor vacuumed. It looked better with everything back in order except for the pile of boxes and material. She wrinkled her nose at it, leaving it to be dealt with later. It was growing late, and she hasn’t done any studying since leaving Tatsuki’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His reiatsu sky rocketed the moment Tamiko stepped into the classroom. A warning flare that she ignored completely. Head held high, she strode into the room, gradually rising her own reiatsu. Not once did he look up from the book in his hand.

A large smile, hands behind her back, and she chirped, “Good morning, Ishida!”

The turn of a page and hum answered her. At least he was no longer ignoring her completely, but his pressure turned so cold that goosebumps rose on her arms.

Leaning closer, she whispered, “You know, with that reiatsu of yours, you’re like a walking icicle. Try not to melt in this heat, okay?”

He buried his face deeper into his book in response.

When Orihime greeted him a few minutes later, he looked up. “Good morning, Inoue,” he said politely. As she beamed at him, he went right back into hiding.

Anytime Orihime greeted him, he always responded curtly, but politely. Tamiko realized that it must be because he didn’t see her as an enemy. She was an innocent bystander, unlike herself.

Casting a concerned look over her shoulder, Orihime said, “You know, Ishida’s been acting strange lately.”

“Strange how?” Michiru asked. “It doesn’t seem like he’s acting any differently to me.”

“It’s like..” Orihime put a finger against her chin. “...he’s confused. Like he can’t decide between red bean chawanmushi or udon with honey.”

‘Where does she go that has food like that on the menu?’ Tamiko wondered, looking down at her desk. ‘Uryu’s confused? Could it have something to do with what happened the other day?’

It had been the afternoon following Kanonji’s show. Uryu sauntered down the street with Tamiko silently following a few feet behind. All the while, she could feel his reiatsu tightening, winding up. He stopped. “I can sense you. You’re just as bad as Kurosaki, letting your reiatsu leak out all over the place.”

She sprinted up, face ablaze. “I wasn’t trying to be stealthy. And I never realized I could stop it before. It’s not like I have anyone to teach me.”

He sighed before facing her and saying, “It’s as easy as breathing. Concentrate on the reiryoku in your body. Once you can recognize it, it should be a simple matter of shutting it off.”

“Okay.” Tamiko squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. The cold reiryoku in Uryu’s body appeared. Turning her focus inward, she discovered the much warmer reiryoku of her own. She followed trails of it until she found where they were flowing out. “Wow. It really is leaking everywhere, huh?”

The openings were all sealed off, effectively trapping the energy inside. She opened her eyes, flashing a smile at him. It quickly faded as she saw his eyes widening and mouth opening.

Her arms flew wrapped around her midsection, sweat forming just above her brow. It felt like pressure was building, like when someone would shake a bottle of soda. If the top was unscrewed, it would all come spewing forth. She clenched her eyes, trying desperately to keep it all inside.

It was in vain. Everything she had closed off popped right open. All of the reiryoku came pouring out, thickening the air. She gasped for a breath, feeling herself falling.

Uryu caught and lowered her down to her knees. The reiryoku around the cross gathered, forming the bow of reishi. She felt him shoot an arrow above her. Then another until the energy dissipated.

“Breathe, Kimura,” he said. “Take deep breaths.”

She did as directed, filling her lungs with air that smelled like rain. “I thought you said,” she whispered, “that it was as easy as breathing.”

“It is when you don’t try closing everything at once! You can’t do that, or you’ll lose all control of your reiryoku. That could have killed you!”

Her heart fluttered as she looked up at him with wide eyes. His were still heavy with concern. “I had no idea. Thank you.”

“Just be more careful next time.” He pushed up his glasses, the cross around his wrist glistening in the afternoon light. Tamiko frowned at that, eyes drifting to his left shoved into his pocket. He continued, snapping her back to his face, “It takes a lot of practice to be able to regulate your reiatsu.”

His hand tightened into a fist. A snarl contorted his expression. “Which is why it’s so infuriating that Kurosaki has yet to figure it out!”

“Didn’t you just say that it takes practice?” she asked, shakily standing to her feet. She blinked, his left hand jumping out of his pocket, only to dive right back in.

“Yes, but unlike you, he has an experienced Soul Reaper to teach him,” he said, voice thick with frustration. “He’s had nearly two months worth of time to practice, and yet, that idiot still leaks reiryoku like an oversized balloon!”

Now that was a side of Uryu Tamiko hasn’t seen before. He truly was frustrated over Ichigo not noticing him. She covered her mouth, trying desperately to stifle the snickers beginning to shake her shoulders.

All of the frustration drained out of him. He raised an eyebrow, asking, “And what’s so funny this time?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a crush on Ichigo.” She howled at the pink tinting his cheeks.

“There’s no way I’d have a crush on that buffoon! For one thing, I’m not even interested in--” His hand soared out of his pocket as he took a step towards her. Blood dripped, dotting the concrete below.

She closed the gap between them, grabbing the hand before it could return to hiding. Gently, she examined the wound. A gash ran from between his index and fore fingers, all the way to his wrist. It didn’t seem too deep, at least.

Everything grew absolutely silent between them. She pulled out her handkerchief and cleaned the blood from around the wound. All the while, she glanced at his face to see if she was hurting him, but he didn’t wince or utter a sound. Finally, she took the ribbon off of her uniform and used it to bandage the wound.

“That should tide you over until you get home,” she said, taking a step back. “Sorry. I don’t usually carry bandages around with me.”

He stared at his hand, mouth hanging open. His eyes flickered up to her. She stared back at him, giving him a gentle but serious look.

“You got that wound because of me, didn’t you? Had to be, because you weren’t injured before.”

Uryu lowered his head, bangs hiding his eyes. “It’s nothing. Don’t concern yourself with it.” The hand went back into hiding.

“And why shouldn’t I? Even if it wasn’t my fault, you’re wounded. That’s more than enough to concern me.”

The silence hung between them once more. She watched him, noting how tense he had become. Just when she thought he had transformed into a statue, he turned on his heel. He briskly strode away.

“Ishida!” she called, but he disappeared completely. How rude. He could have at least said some form of gratitude. She wondered why he hadn’t.

The next day at school, she found a red ribbon on her desk. It wasn’t the one she gave him, as that one had begun to fray; it was brand new and had a softer feel to it.

A few days later, Tamiko wondered if that incident had anything to do with him being confused now. She watched him remain hunched over his book while the voices of her friends’ chirped in her ears.

“Isn’t this great, Tamiko?” Orihime asked, leaning into her vision. “Ryo, Michiru, and Chizuru all agreed to go to the Tanabata Festival with us! We’re going to have such a good time. Just like we did at Kanonji’s show.”

Tamiko blinked and straightened up. “Y-yes. Like at Kanonji’s show.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rounding the corner, something immediately caught her eye. There was a delivery truck outside the apartment. Tamiko rushed over to see the delivery men carry a small bookshelf through the front door. She followed them into Sango’s room.

A bed and nightstand were already shoved into the cramped space. Sango directed the men to put the shelf over on the far wall, giving only a couple of feet of floor between it and the foot of the bed.

“Kimura!” she exclaimed and gestured dramatically around the room. “Look, all of my furniture arrived. Don’t they look lovely in this room? They have yet to bring in my wardrobe. It’s going to go right there.” She pointed at the last empty corner beside the door.

Tamiko rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, they do.”

“And now that you’re all finished with school, I thought we’d go pick out some paint and a new rug. Bother, I suppose we’ll need some tarps to cover everything as well. But afterwards, I’ll treat us to dinner, since you don’t seem to have many groceries.”

Oh. She had skipped out on grocery shopping in favor of more study time with Tatsuki and Orihime. Tamiko glanced at the floor. “Actually, I have a ton of homework. And that’s not to mention all of the studying I need to do. I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Not a problem!” Sango’s voice was high and merry, no sign of disappointment whatsoever. “I’ll go on ahead and do some grocery shopping as well. Any special requests?”

“Just don’t get any sushi or garlic. I’m allergic to the latter.”

“You got it! Study hard now.”

Tamiko set herself down at her desk and hunched over her books. From the time Sango left, to long after she returned, she stayed like that. The only time she went downstairs was to eat the dinner that had been prepared.

For the entire meal, Tamiko couldn’t look up from her food. It felt like her heart was being squeezed, eating a meal across from someone who wasn’t Machiko. Thankfully, it seemed that Sango understood the necessity to be quiet during meal time, saving her chatter for after the plates were cleared.

“You’ve had my cooking for a full 24 hours now,” she said, rising to stack the dishes. “What do you think?”

Still not looking up, Tamiko nodded. “It’s good. Thank you. I have to go back to studying now.” She jumped up and dashed to her room before Sango could say another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The closer finals got, the more often Tamiko stayed up past midnight. Every last possible minute was used trying to cram three months worth of information into her brain.

Not only that, but she also spent the time practicing reiatsu control. At school, she studied Uryu closely, waiting for the flare up that signified Ichigo’s impending arrival. She mimicked it, like she would a bojutsu technique, letting her pressure explode and then gradually bringing it back down.

Just before collapsing on the bed, she would do the opposite. Lower her reiatsu as much as possible or gradually seal it off, only letting tiny streams of it wisp out. She couldn’t completely judge her progress without having a witness around. Sango didn’t seem capable of sensing her, and she wasn’t about to go to her anyway.

So Tamiko practiced on her own, hoping it was enough.

One night, Uryu’s reiryoku entered her perception. She looked up from her book, waiting for him to reach his destination. It was the convenience store again. Staring out the window, she twirled her pencil and shrugged. Again, he must be going for a snack or even dinner.

When he hadn’t left three hours later, she bit her lip. Her stomach growled, dinner having been hours ago. Well, may as well go get a treat for working so hard. No, she wasn’t going to go stalk him.

And sealing off her reiatsu had nothing to do with it. She merely wanted to see how stealthy she could be--a test to see how long she could keep her presence a secret from him.

Before getting anywhere near the automatic doors, Tamiko peeked through the window. Her hand muffled a snicker. There was Uryu, dressed in an apron and standing behind the counter. He took a container of food from a customer and turned to heat it up.

‘Now that’s something you don’t see everyday,’ she thought, watching him cover and bag the steaming food. ‘He’s working a part-time job. Does that mean he and his father are completely estranged?’ Sad thing was, she wasn’t surprised.

As the customer left, Tamiko decided that in order to truly test her stealth, she would have to get a little closer. She peeked back inside, noting that Uryu had an unobstructed view of the front doors. While he stood there, he would see her for sure.

And so, she waited until he stepped into the back, his co-worker--a young man in his early 20s with stubble and thick black hair--taking his place behind the counter. She walked in, waved to the replacement, and ducked into the aisles.

Without paying attention, she snagged up an armload of snacks. She hid behind one of the aisles, pretending to survey the selection of drinks.

Uryu returned to the counter. He hasn’t said a single word about her being there. She glanced back to see that his co-worker had returned to the back room. Then he wasn’t preventing him from saying something or approaching her.

Satisfied, she casually walked up to the counter. The items from her arms clattered onto the surface.

“Good evening, miss. Is this every...” Uryu trailed off, eyes flickering up from the objects to meet hers. She gave him a grin, and he stepped back. “K-Kimura! What are you doing here?”

She tilted her head to the side. “I was studying and got hungry for a snack. This convenience store is close by and has the best cakes.”

“Three cakes, cookies, and a bag of chips. Quite a lot of food for a mere snack, and not what I’d call nutritious.” He frowned and picked up the bag.

“You two know each other?” a voice asked.

They looked up as the co-worker stepped out of the back room. The name tag pinned to his uniform read “Mochi.” Was he named after the food?

“Ishida, is this your girlfriend?” he asked, eyes going wide with wonder.

Tamiko burst out laughing.

“No! Of course not!” Uryu exclaimed, pink brushing his cheeks. He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses back into place. “Classmates. We’re in the same class and sewing club. That’s all.”

“Actually, we’re bitter enemies.” Tamiko leaned against the counter, a sly smirk crossing over her face. “Competing over who is better at backstitches. Right, Ishida?”

Uryu looked back at her, returning her expression with a smug look. He appeared to stand taller, folding his arms. “We both know that I have the better backstitch. You may as well admit defeat now. It will spare you the humiliation in club tomorrow.”

“In your dreams.” She put a hand on her hip. “Everyone knows that I stitch the fastest. I’m afraid that it’ll be you who’s humiliated.”

Before he could retort, there was a squeal that could rival any of Chizuru’s. He and Tamiko jumped, looking at Mochi whose eyes were sparkling.

“Aww, you two are so cute!” he gushed. “Competing with each other must keep you on your toes. Hey, how come you haven’t mentioned her? Is it because you don’t want your father finding out that you have a girlfriend? Dude, I won’t breathe a word!”

Meaning, the whole town would probably know by morning. Tamiko shook with fresh howls, hugging her stomach.

“I told you! She’s not my girlfriend!” Uryu yelled.

However, his argument fell on deaf ears as Mochi rambled on about how cute of a couple they were. Eventually, Uryu gave up, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He thrusted the bag at her, putting a halt to her laughter. “Kimura, did you even look at the ingredients on these?”

“No?” She took it and looked at the list of ingredients. Her face grew warm. “Oh. Garlic. Y-you remembered that?”

“Naturally,” Uryu said, pushing up his glasses. “You specifically told me that you were allergic. For your information, the proper term is ‘food intolerance.’ By all means, purchase them. Far be it from me to tell a customer what they can or cannot buy.”

With a nervous laugh, she laid the chips aside. “Looks like I won’t be purchasing them after all. I can put them back before I leave.”

They were snatched up. “No need!” Mochi chimed. “I’ll take care of it for you, miss!” He bounded into the snack aisle.

“I really like your co-worker. He’s fun.”

“Of course you would.” Uryu sighed and began ringing her up.

Once everything was bagged up and in Tamiko’s arms, she chirped, “Thank you! You’re pretty good at this. I think I’ll come here regularly for my snacks, especially on the days you’re here. Which are...?”

He turned away from her. “None of your--”

“Every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday! Then every other Wednesday. From eight until midnight,” Mochi’s voice echoed from the back of the store.

“Thanks a bunch!” Tamiko flashed a big smile in his direction before looking back at Uryu. “I’ll see you then. Good night, Ishida.”

“Good night, Kimura.” He busied himself with wiping around the microwave.

While walking down the street, Tamiko hugged the bag of snacks. ‘It worked,’ she thought. ‘I took him completely by surprise. You know? I wonder if Machiko knew about reiatsu control.’

A Hollow’s presence, followed by a scream, ripped her from her thoughts. She ran towards them, coming across a small boy cowering before a Hollow with massive teeth.

“Hey!” She flared out her reiatsu, catching the Hollow’s attention. She forced a smirk. “Leave the boy alone. Got a much tastier soul here for you!”

That piqued its interest. The Hollow immediately leaped in her direction, and she bolted around a corner. She skidded to a halt when it soared over her head. Its impact sent tremors through the ground. Heart pounding, she stumbled back.

‘Could really use a staff right about now,’ she thought, gritting her teeth. ‘I’d give this guy a good whacking.’

She recoiled from its roar. Just as it was getting ready to pounce on her, reiryoku gathered. The reishi arrow was like a bolt of lightning, striking the Hollow in the back. It faded in a flare of bright light, Tamiko squinting against it.

No surprise to look up and find Uryu, still as a statue, on top of a nearby house. His scowl bore down on her, but it shot up the moment Ichigo’s pressure entered the area. He disappeared, but he didn’t go far--only around the corner.

“The Hollow should be coming up!” Rukia exclaimed, she and Ichigo appearing down the street. They stopped as she looked at her cell phone. “That’s odd. It was here, but now the signal’s gone.”

“What do you mean the signal’s gone?” Ichigo asked, glaring at her. “You mean you dragged me out of bed for nothing?”

She snapped the phone shut. “It wasn’t for nothing. The Hollow was right here. I watched it on the radar the entire time.”

“Then it went back home. Back to that place. Hueco Mundo? Didn’t you mention that Hollow’s could do that?” He rubbed his head.

“I suppose that’s possible.” Rukia frowned, putting a hand to her chin. Her eyes darted up, finding Tamiko. “Kimura! Did you see a Hollow just now?”

“Tamiko?” Ichigo blinked, glare transforming into a clueless look as he looked in her direction. “What are you doin’ out so late? Don’t tell me that you destroyed the Hollow?”

She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced down at the cakes in her bag. One was pulled out, and she mimed throwing it. “Yeah! I did! Chucked a cake and killed it. Apparently sweets are pure poison to Hollows. Who knew?”

A laugh that was probably loud enough to wake the dead shook out of her. It petered out as they gave her looks of complete disbelief.

“Right, sure,” Ichigo mumbled, crossing his arms and nodding. “Come on, Tamiko. Quit jokin’ around and tell us if there was a Hollow here or not.”

“If there was one, would I be joking about it?” she asked, glancing behind her. “No, I haven’t seen a Hollow all night, but there was the spirit of a little boy about a block back. He seemed spooked, so maybe he saw something?”

“Probably should go check it out,” Rukia said, and Ichigo sighed in response. “The spirit does need to pass on to the Soul Society.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Ichigo walked by Tamiko, heading towards the spirit and away from Uryu. “Thanks, Tamiko. Are you going to be okay getting home on your own?”

Tamiko squared her shoulders and gave him a confident grin. “I’ll be fine, Ichigo. It’s not that far away.” The grin faded, bag crumpling as she put her other arm back around it. “Sorry. That I couldn’t be of more help.”

“Don’t worry about it. That phone of Rukia’s must have short circuited or something. Go home and get to bed.”

“On my way! Good night, Ichigo! Kuchiki.” Tamiko watched them disappear around the corner.

Uryu hadn’t moved nor lowered his reiatsu. She glanced in his direction and sighed. With tears burning in her eyes, she turned and ran all the way home.

At school the next day, the air was thick with tension and reiatsu from Uryu. Throughout the day, Tamiko glared at the back of his head. It took every ounce of her willpower not to run up and smack him over the head.

‘How does he do it?’ she wondered. ‘Study for finals and cling to this rage? Not to mention holding down a part-time job? Must have years of experience.’

Not long after lunch, a Hollow caught her attention. Uryu promptly excused himself and left. Barely two seconds later, Rukia’s phone beeped. The teacher didn’t say a word about it. Apparently only those with high spiritual awareness could hear it.

By the time Ichigo and Rukia raced out the door, the Hollow already fell to Uryu’s arrow. He returned a few minutes later, as if he had only gone to use the restroom.

Tamiko buried her head into her arms. ‘Now. He chooses now to start fighting Hollows? That is bound to grab their attention, but not in a good way. Is he trying to provoke Ichigo?’

The afternoon wore on, and Ichigo and Rukia never returned. Somewhere in town, they had to be searching for the long dead Hollow. And Tamiko couldn’t say a word about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Tamiko got home from school the day of Tanabata, she disappeared into her room and got to work on finishing the yukata. When Sango called for her, she didn’t budge. If she kept working, she should finish in plenty of time for the festival.

Panting came from the doorway, and she whirled around. Sango stood there, pale and out of breath and hands behind her back. Despite her clear discomfort, her whole face lit up with a giant smile.

“I see! That’s why you couldn’t hear me. You’re really working on that yukata of yours. My, isn’t it lovely! And I have just the thing to go with it.” She stepped further into the room. Her arms lifted over her head, revealing a peony blossom in a plastic container. “Ta-dah!~”

Tamiko blinked, eyes flickering back and forth between it and the yukata. She noted the bright pink peonies splattered all over the fabric. “T-thank you, Miss Daiichi.”

Sango set the flower on the desk, giving it a light pat. “It’ll look lovely in that hair of yours,” she said, watching as Tamiko resumed working. “Would you like any help? I know my way around a needle and thread.”

“No, thank you. I’m just about done.”

“You certainly have a talent with sewing.”

“Hm.” Tamiko nodded, putting her entire focus into her work.

Once she finished, she stood to begin getting ready for the festival. She frowned, looking at the peony blossom on her desk. It would be rude not to wear it, so after she made sure her hair was tidy, she pinned it beside her ponytail.

Then came the real struggle: putting on the yukata. She never could get the bow on by herself, having relied on Machiko’s help. After several minutes of struggling with it, she reluctantly went down to Sango.

With a beaming smile, she tied the bow, gushing, “Absolutely beautiful! You’re bound to draw the eyes of every guy there.”

Tamiko swore her face became as pink as the flowers she was wearing. She turned away in an attempt to hide it. “Yeah.”

With the handbag that had been intended for Machiko--purple with blue bellflowers--hanging from her wrist, Tamiko set out to meet up with the others. She resolved not to think about finals, Hollows, Uryu’s grudge, or that Sango was trying to replace Machiko. Tonight was devoted purely to having fun with her friends.

It had been agreed upon to meet at the entrance to the park. Tamiko arrived third, after Ryo and Michiru. Their yukatas were strikingly different: Ryo’s was black with leaves in varying shades of purple and Michiru’s was white and painted with light pink and purple swirls.

“Good evening, Kimura!” Michiru said, smiling. “Wow! Your yukata is amazing!”

Ryo gave a soft noise of approval.

Heat surged through her cheeks. “Thanks,” Tamiko said. “Yours both look lovely too.”

Orihime and Tatsuki arrived next. The former was covered with bright orange, white, and yellow flowers on light pink fabric, while the latter wore a simple blue yukata with a sash dotted with white flowers.

“Everyone looks so lovely!” Orihime beamed, holding her hands together. “So bright and colorful.”

“I agree!” Chizuru squealed, launching herself on Orihime from behind. While also pink, her yukata was covered in large red camellias. “Such lovely colors on you, Hime.~”

Tatsuki tore Chizuru away. “Keep your hands off her! Try and show a little restraint, Honsho. Geez!”

With a shrug, Chizuru grinned towards Tamiko.

“Same goes for her.”

“Aww.” Chizuru pouted. “Come on! How can you expect me to be around such lovely young women and not put my hands all over them? You’re such a meanie!”

Tamiko chortled with laughter. She threw her arms around her, getting a soft whine in response. “It’ll be okay. So smile, Honsho.”

When she let go, Chizuru’s eyes were wide and face as red as the flowers on her yukata.

Shaking with more laughter, Tamiko raced into the park. “Come on! It’s time to have fun!”

“Yeah!” Behind her, Orihime giggled and dashed after. “Let’s play games, eat some yummy food, and make our wishes!”

They stopped before a row of vendors and games. The smells of various foods wafted up. Her stomach growled, Tamiko having skipped out on dinner specifically so she could enjoy all of her favorites.

She parted with her friends long enough to find her usual yakisoba booth. When she reconvened with them, everyone had their own treats. Orihime had a taiyaki and yakitori, taking bites out of them at the same time. Everyone else had more normal fare of either takoyaki or okonomiyaki.

When everyone had their fill, Chizuru squared her shoulders and faced Tatsuki. “I challenge you to a contest,” she declared, pointing. “If I win, I get to hang off of Orihime’s arm for the rest of the night.”

Tatsuki gave her a smug look. “Fine, but if I win, you have to keep six feet away from her instead.”

Chizuru whined, pouting out her lip. “Deal.” They shook on it.

“Hey, what about the rest of us?” Tamiko asked, a grin spreading over her face. “We should all compete. Why not pick teammates like we do in gym class?”

“Alright, but I get to pick first,” Tatsuki said and pointed to Orihime.

“But she’s the prize,” Chizuru whined, and Tatsuki sighed and glared in response.

“Fine. Tamiko.”

Chizuru picked Ryo, who shook her head. “Aren’t we too old for this?”

Michiru joined Tatsuki’s team, and Chizuru whined again, “Aw, no fair! You have two team members.”

“It would have been even if you would have let me pick Orihime first,” Tatsuki said, rubbing the back of her head.

“That’s okay,” Orihime said, moving to stand beside Chizuru. “I’ll be on this team, so it’s even!”

A smug look appeared on Chizuru’s face. She turned to Tatsuki and stuck her tongue out at her. A vein popped out of Tatsuki’s temple. “Why you...!”

Tamiko and Michiru each grabbed an arm, keeping her from going after Chizuru. “Maybe save it for the games?” Tamiko suggested, stifling a laugh.

They proceeded to play. Tatsuki’s team won at the ring toss and hit the target, but Chizuru’s won at the gold fish catching. It was a tie at yo-yo tsuri with everyone winning a yo-yo balloon. The final game was senbon biki, a game of luck. Tamiko was the only one to get a prize, winning a small bag of a candy.

Chizuru crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. Tatsuki pointed, and she moved six feet away from Orihime. Tamiko walked over and held out her bag of candy to her. “Would you like a piece?”

She stared at the bag a moment before nodding and taking one. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tamiko gave her a toothy smile, and was given a small one in response. She shared the bag with everyone else, leaving only one piece for herself.

At last, it was time to hang their tanzaku in the bamboo trees. Throughout the entire day, Tamiko racked her brain for what to wish for. The natural thing would be for a high score on finals, but it felt so generic.

There was another wish. She longed for Uryu to work out his differences with Ichigo. It made sense, as she was growing weary of being trapped between the two of them and unable to do anything about it. But how does one write that on such a small slip of paper?

A small, resentful part of her wanted to wish for Sango to go away. She shoved that wish as far down as it could go.

Finally, she settled on something. Tamiko hung it from the tree. “To strengthen our bonds with each other.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday dawned, the first of three days dedicated purely to exams. All club activities were suspended, including Home Handicrafts. Inside classroom 1-3, all but one were quiet and subdued. The exception: Uryu.

One could cut the tension with a knife with how much reiatsu that was spiraling around him.

Apparently, Ichigo still hasn’t figured out what was happening with the Hollows. Blame was pinned on Rukia’s phone, and Urahara didn’t seem to be answering any of her calls.

Needless to say, the classroom felt like a freezer. At any moment, frost would start creeping up the walls. Tamiko found it hard to concentrate, staring blankly at her exam paper.

Thankfully, Uryu finished first and was allowed to leave the room. With the temperature returning to normal, she found herself able to think and answer some of the questions. Whether they were right or not, she couldn’t be sure. All of the information seemed to blur together in her mind.

While taking the history exam, she kept trying to formulate the dates into mathematic equations. And during both the Japanese and English exams, she wrote the opposite. Her eraser got a workout on those.

Earth Science went a lot smoother, or so she believed. Since it was so drastically different from the other subjects, it was difficult to get the answers confused with anything else. But she stared at the question asking how a thunderstorm was formed for nearly ten minutes.

The math exam felt more like a nightmare. When it was finished, she blocked all memory of it. That only heightened her anxiety.

But, by some miracle, she made it through the three days. Now to await the results and find out if she succeeded or either be trapped within summer school or forced back to Naruki City.

A long week loomed before her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like I got to play around more with characters' personal lives in this one by giving Uryu a part-time job. Come on...we all know he's too prideful and stubborn to accept help from a father he despises. It made sense to put him to work somewhere at least mildly humiliating.


	9. Good Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stricken with a cold, Tamiko confronts her feelings about Sango and the role she has taken in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is focused on Tamiko and Sango's relationship. Very little of the main plot is involved, so only read if you are interested in knowing a little more about Sango. Also, if sickfics are your cup of tea, then you'll probably enjoy this chapter a lot! I hope so!
> 
> The song that Sango sings is called Yesterday & Today by Do as Infinity. You can check out the music video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePsbqvaVnMA It's a lovely song!
> 
> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat

The harsh shrill of a whistle pierced straight through her head. Tamiko flinched, staring at the ground as Mr. Kagine, the gym coach, informed the class of what they would be doing that morning. The boys were sent off to the soccer field while the girls were led to the track.

Outside the air was warm and humid, a relief from Uryu’s frigid reiatsu that kept plunging the room into sub zero temperatures. How has Ichigo and Rukia not noticed it? Tamiko had watched them and neither one showed any signs of being cold.

‘Does reiatsu affect everyone differently?’ she wondered, trudging to the track. ‘But they should be able to sense something. Kuchiki definitely should.’

Although, Rukia seemed to have gotten weaker. The reiryoku in her body had weakened by half since last month. Was that why she wasn’t able to return home? Tamiko wondered if she was sick. Could Soul Reapers get a disease that lowered their energy? She was too afraid to ask such a question.

Again, Kagine blew his whistle, and she winced, rubbing her head. “Alright, ladies,” he said. “You’re running laps today. I want you to concentrate on pacing yourselves, so don’t worry about how fast you run, just as long as you complete ten laps within the hour. Don’t forget to stretch first.”

Everyone did as directed, stretching and warming themselves up before taking off. Tamiko was one of the last to get started, having never been good at running. She always trailed behind everyone.

This time was no exception, as everyone managed to lap her within two laps. Sweat poured down her back, soaking her t-shirt. She swallowed, her throat raw. When her vision went out of focus, she found herself sprawling to the ground.

“Are you okay, Kimura?” Michiru asked, being the last to have lapped her. “That looked like a nasty fall.”

With an overly boastful laugh, Tamiko jumped back up. “I’m fine. Must have just slipped on a pebble. Come on! I bet we can get caught up with the others.”

She took back off, not listening to Michiru’s suggestion to take a short break. That suggestion was brought up again when Tamiko hit the ground a second time. Once more, she laughed it off and got back up. When it happened for a third time, she stayed.

“Kimura!” Michiru cried.

Several other voices called out as well, including Orihime’s. Dozens of tennis shoes filled Tamiko’s vision. She closed her eyes, slipping into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her bed felt so soft and warm that she didn’t want to wake up, but she knew the alarm would blare at any second. Tamiko rolled over, preparing to hit the button when it did. Something damp slid off her head, but it somehow slid back and stayed.

She blinked open her eyes to a large, blurry form looming over her. The sight caused her heart to stop. A Hollow? It didn’t feel like a Hollow, though. Her heart began again, her vision clearing to reveal Chad’s gentle gaze. He held a cloth to her forehead.

“C-Chad? Where am I?” she asked, voice little more than a rasp. She glanced around, making out a white ceiling and a light blue curtain.

“The infirmary,” he said. “You passed out on the track.”

“I did?” A hazy memory of running and falling came to her. She tried to swallow, finding her mouth completely dry. “Water?”

“Here.” He picked up a cup from a nearby table.

Propped up on an elbow, she sipped the water while he held it. She grimaced, her throat feeling like someone had cut into it with a blade.

“Good, you’re awake,” a quiet voice said. The school nurse--a middle aged woman with fuzzy brown hair--approached the bed, wielding a thermometer. “How are you feeling? Any dizziness or pain?”

“No. No dizziness. My throat hurts, but that’s it.”

The nurse nodded, bent down, and smiled. “Open up now, so I can check your temperature.”

An awkward silence overcame the room after the device slipped under Tamiko’s tongue. When it beeped at last, the nurse took it back.

“37.7 degrees,” she read out. “Lie back down now. I’ve already sent a note up to your class. Is there a family member I can call to take you home?”

Tamiko did as directed, and Chad promptly returned the cloth to its position on her head. She glanced at him briefly. Then shook her head in answer to the question, but caught herself, “A roommate. She’d be at her shift at the hospital, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sango Daiichi.”

“Okay. Rest while you wait for her.” With that, the nurse disappeared behind the curtain.

Chad sat down in a chair beside the bed, Tamiko watching him. He stared back, never losing the gentle look in his eyes.

“Did you carry me over here?” she asked, and he grunted a confirmation. “Aren’t you missing class?”

“I’ll stay. Until Miss Daiichi comes for you.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes. When she shifted around, her foot hit something. Again, she propped herself up. At her feet was her backpack and school uniform.

“Arisawa and Inoue brought them. They assumed you’d be heading home.”

Lying back down, she smiled. “I’ll have to thank them later,” she whispered, closing her eyes once more.

Every so often, she caught the sounds of the infirmary: the opening and closing of drawers, the squeak of a desk chair, and soft footsteps. The door creaked open, and voices murmured to each other.

Someone tapped Tamiko on the shoulder and laid a cool hand on her cheek. She groaned, yawned, and rubbed both eyes with the palms of her hands.

Sango’s gentle smile came into focus. “Sorry to wake you,” she said, “but it’s time to get you home. There you can sleep all you want. Are you doing alright?”

“Sleepy.” She yawned again; she cleared her throat, moving to get up. When she stood, a dizziness washed over her, causing her to stumble forward and hold her head. Both Sango’s and Chad’s arms shot out to catch her. She squeaked out a giggle at the sight, standing slightly straighter.

“Oh, my!” Sango exclaimed, eyes darting up and down to take in his height. “You’re a high school student?”

“Yes. In Tamiko’s class.”

Tamiko smiled sleepily, tilting her head to the side. “Let me introduce you. Miss Daiichi, this is Yasutora Sado. Pretty much everyone calls him ‘Chad,’ though. And Chad, this is Sango Daiichi.” She gestured to them respectively.

He nodded, rubbing the back of his head.

“Pleasure to meet you!” Sango smiled and held out a flapping hand towards Chad. “Nurse Hirata did mention that one of Kimura’s classmates was sitting with her, so I thought she meant a girl. This is quite a shock.”

“Sorry,” Chad mumbled.

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize! In fact, I should be the one apologizing. That may have been rude of me. I tend to run at the mouth a lot.” She bonked herself on the head with her fist.

An understanding grunt answered her. All the while, he kept his eyes on Tamiko. His hand spread out towards her, as if anticipating her to fall.

Thankfully, the dizziness didn’t persist and she managed to stand steady on her own. She swallowed and flinched. There must have been something going around, as there had been a few people coughing and sneezing around school lately.

“Dear, your face does look like you’ve bit into something sour,” Sango said, resting a hand on her forehead. “You could almost cook an egg on that forehead of yours. The nurse told me that you collapsed during gym.”

“Yeah. Must be coming down with something,” she whispered, “but I’m sure I’ll feel better after a nap.”

“All we have to do is get you home first.” Sango turned and bowed to Chad. “Thank you! It’s good to know that Kimura has amazing friends like yourself looking out for her.”

He nodded and bowed in return. A flicker of a smile appeared when he turned to Tamiko. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

After changing clothes, Tamiko walked outside with Sango beside her. A taxi was parked on the street in front of the school, and she paused in her steps.

“I thought I’d spring for a cab,” Sango explained, walking up and opening the back door. “That way, you don’t have to walk all the way home.”

With a nod, Tamiko crawled inside. She pushed herself all the way against the other door. The entire way home, her eyes wanted to stay closed. Each time she managed to get them open, they were in a completely different part of town. Eventually, her shoulder was nudged, and she looked out to discover they had arrived at the apartment.

The bath and cup of tea that followed were a complete blur. Even though she must have slept a good couple of hours in the nurse’s office, it didn’t seem to do any good. When she collapsed on her bed, she was already fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt only a few minutes had gone by, when she was awakened by Sango’s hand on her arm. “I’m sorry,” she said to her loud groan. “I need to make sure you drink some water. And while we’re at it, we may as well check that temperature!”

In each hand, she lifted a glass of water and thermometer. After a yawn, Tamiko accepted the device. While Sango looked at the reading with a smile, she handed her the glass.

“Down to 36.9,” Sango said cheerfully as Tamiko winced at the water burning down her throat. “That nap must have done you some good.”

“It doesn’t feel like I slept at all. How long was I out?”

“Eight hours.”

The gulp of water went down the wrong way, sending Tamiko into a fit of sputtering and coughing. Sango hurriedly patted her on the back. “E-eight hours? Some nap. More like a good night’s sleep.”

“Your body needed the rest,” Sango said, taking the partially empty glass and putting it on the nightstand. “You missed a couple of your friends. They brought your homework. Inoue and Arisawa, I believe their names are.”

“Yeah, I went to Tanabata with them.”

“Nice girls.” A wistful look appeared on her face. “They even invited me to the Fireworks Festival in August. We’ll have to see what my hours are that evening, but I hope I can go. It’d be a lot of fun!”

Tamiko squirmed at the thought of that. Her first Fireworks Festival without Machiko, but with her replacement? She turned away to stare at the corner.

Not seeming to notice her discomfort, Sango asked, “Anyway, you hungry? You have to be, having skipped lunch entirely! What would you like for dinner? Ramen?”

At the mention of food, a growling emitted from her stomach. She glanced back at Sango’s laughing face. “Ramen does sound amazing. Could I have chicken, bamboo shoots, and a boiled egg in it?”

She patted her head. “Why of course!” she beamed. “Go ahead and rest a while longer if you’d like. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

When she left, Tamiko freshened up and sat down to do her homework. She sighed, pencil scratching out the answer to a question about a conflict in feudal Japan.

A large part of her wanted to crawl back into bed and avoid dinner altogether, avoid sitting across from Sango again. Her resolve fell away when the enticing aroma of broth wafted up. She practically ran down the stairs when Sango called for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearing eleven at night, and Tamiko slipped on her sandals. Just before she could open the door, Sango asked, “Where are you going at this late hour?”

Tamiko whirled around, coming face to face with a stern look. “The convenience store,” she said.

“Again? My, you must really enjoy those cakes.”

“Yeah, they’re the best.” She faced and opened the door.

A hand landed on her forehead, pulling her backwards. She looked over her shoulder as Sango nodded and smiled brightly.

“Just wanted to make sure your fever hasn’t come back. Now be home before midnight, and no running. Wouldn’t want you to collapse again. In fact...” She stepped forward to slip on her shoes. “...maybe I should come with you.”

“I’ll be fine!” Tamiko yelled, holding up her hand as if to stop her. She lowered it at her bewildered expression. After clearing her throat, she reiterated, “I’ll be okay on my own. Not like I’m going all the way to Naruki City. Just around the block.”

Sango seemed taken aback, her hand forming a fist and brushing against her chest. “Yes, of course. In that case, here.” She grabbed Tamiko’s hand and dumped a handful of coins into it, brightening up. “My treat. Just snag me one of the apple flavored ones, and don’t overeat. Wouldn’t want you to get a tummy ache as well.”

Her fingers brushed against the coins. “I won’t,” Tamiko said. “Thank you.”

Free at last. She walked with a little spring in her step, grateful to be enjoying the trip alone. But, guilt warmed its way inside her. It was wrong to feel so happy about blowing someone off like that. She remembered the wish she had thought to make during Tanabata.

‘Why am I resenting Miss Daiichi?’ she wondered, the spring fading into a trudge. ‘She came to help, not replace Machiko. I know this, and yet, I can’t stop thinking it. Why?’

The tears burned her eyes, leading to sniffling and a fit of sneezes. When that ended, pressure built up in her chest, and she coughed roughly. Now the tepid air felt more like an oven. She quickened her steps to reach the cool comfort of the convenience store.

As she stepped inside, another cough worked its way up and into her elbow.

“Kimura?” Uryu asked, staring at her. His intense expression began to soften.

Before he could say anything else, Mochi burst out of the back room. He already looked concerned, mouth hanging open.

“Good evening,” she croaked.

“Oh, dear!” Mochi gasped, rushing to her side. “You don’t sound well at all. Have you caught a cold?”

“I...” Tamiko trailed of to sniff and rub at her eyes. “...think so.”

Uryu was directly in front of her in an instant, his hand on her forehead. “You’re burning up. Just what do you think you’re doing walking around like this?” She opened her mouth to reply, but sneezed instead. He leaped out of firing range, yelling, “Hey, watch it!”

“Didn’t feel this bad when I left.”

“Even still, you should be home in bed. Do you want to pass out again?”

“Wait, again?” Mochi asked, looking between them. “What do you mean ‘again?’”

“She collapsed during gym class,” Uryu explained, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to her.

Her fingers brushed against the cloth, hesitant to take it. She remembered the one he lent to her last month, and now it rested on her nightstand instead of being returned to him. When mucus threatened to drip out, she took it and blew her nose. “Thank you.”

A serious look appeared on Mochi’s face. “Don’t you worry,” he said, striding to the counter. “We’ll get you all fixed up.”

He grabbed a bag and rushed to the medical supplies. In a flash, cough syrup, pain killers, and decongestant were tossed in. Tissues and cough drops quickly followed efore he leaped to the snack aisle.

“Oh, grab some apple flavored cakes!” she called.

“You got it!” he chimed in return, his head bobbing over the shelves.

Uryu blinked while Tamiko burst out laughing. Bad idea, as the laughter transformed into a flurry of coughs. She leaned forward, and his arm steadied her. “I’m getting you home. You’re too sick to be out like this.”

Mochi returned, carrying a bag about to burst. “I’ve got everything you need to stomp that cold flat!” he proclaimed. “Medicine, tissues, cough drops, tea, cookies, and loads of those cakes you love so much. All on me!”

“Thanks,” she tried to say, but it came out more like a raspy squeak. She held out her arms to take the bag.

Before he could hand it over, Uryu snagged it. “I’ll be taking that,” he said. “I’m escorting her home. I’ll return before my shift ends.”

“No argument from me, dude. You go take care of your girlfriend.” He nodded to Tamiko, not noticing Uryu’s look of exasperation at yet another girlfriend comment. “Please, get better soon, Kimura!”

“I will,” Tamiko managed, voice quiet and hoarse. She was steered out the door by Uryu.

The walk was quiet for the first block. He made her lean against him. She supposed she should feel awkward and embarrassed by it, but she didn’t. Rather, she felt grateful, because everything seemed to wobble around her.

“How did you do on finals?” she asked, wanting to break the silence with something other than the sounds of her dying. “Bet you did well.”

“No small talk. It sounds like you’re beginning to lose your voice.” She whimpered in response, gripping his arm tighter. He paused to look at her. “What’s wrong? Do you feel faint?”

“I’m scared. If I don’t make it to the top 10 of our class, my mother--” A cough went into her elbow. “She’ll drag me back to Naruki City. I don’t want to leave Ichigo, Orihime, Chad, Tatsuki, Kuchiki...”

“Kimura, you should--”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

A puzzled expression crossed over his face. He moved his free hand to her forehead before he continued to walk. “We need to get you home before that fever gets any higher.”

She sniffled and sobbed softly, prompting him to sigh.

“You’ve done fine. Unlike most of our classmates, you’ve got an actual head on your shoulders. You won’t be dragged back to Naruki City. I’m certain of it.”

Comforted by his words, she gave him a tired smile. “For someone who calls me his enemy, you do worry about my well-being. Saving me from Hollows. Walking me home. Concerned over my fever. Some enemy you are.”

A sneezing fit took hold before Uryu could answer. He paused again, turning away from her, until it ceased.

“Enemy or not, you’re a sick girl walking in the middle of the night. Not only are you a target for depraved men, but for Hollows as well. That alone is enough to concern me.”

“Keep talking like that, and a girl is bound to fall for you.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Rest your voice now, Kimura. You’re almost home.”

It didn’t feel that way, as she fought against her closing eyes. Just when she thought the walk would never end, they stopped in front of the door. Uryu rapped on it.

Within two seconds, the door exploded open. “Kimura!” Sango shouted, Tamiko wincing as the sound pierced through her head. “Dear! I was afraid of this. Looks like your cold has gotten worse.”

“Yeah. Afraid so,” Tamiko whispered.

Sango stepped forward, reaching out to touch her forehead. She froze, blinked, and turned towards Uryu. “You helped Kimura home? My, you’re a...”

Uryu blinked, stepping back as Sango drew closer. Her head darted back and forth between them. It stopped, her eyes lighting up. A large smile broke out on her face.

“A super cute couple!” She clasped her hands together. “Now I see why Kimura keeps going to the convenience store so late at night. Well, who could blame her?”

“We aren’t a couple!” he exclaimed. “We’re classmates and members of the same club, and it just so happens that I work at the convenience store she frequents. Nothing more.”

“Then why is she hanging off your arm?”

“Because she’s sick! She can barely stand on her own let alone walk.”

A dreamy expression appeared, Sango tilting her head upwards. “But isn’t that exactly what the love interest in a romance film would do? Help the sick girl get home safely?”

“That... that isn’t...” Uryu tried to argue.

Tamiko squeaked with laughter. Like before, they devolved into a series of violent coughs. She leaned heavier on his arm, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Dear!” Sango yelped, rushing to her side. One hand went to her forehead while the other rubbed her back. “That fever certainly came back with a vengeance. We should get you inside. You need to lie down.”

She gently pulled Tamiko, who still clung to Uryu’s arm. Sputtering noises of protest, he was dragged into the apartment. He let out an exasperated sigh as the door closed behind them.

They supported Tamiko all the way to the couch. She curled up, feeling strung out. Again, she fought with her eyes to keep them open.

Uryu set the bag on the coffee table and turned towards the door. “Now that she’s safely home, I shall take my--”

“Wait!” Sango exclaimed, and he froze, raising an eyebrow. “Bother, where are my manners? I’m Sango Daiichi. I came to help Tamiko get back on her feet. And you are?”

After another sigh, he faced her and bowed. “Uryu Ishida. Like previously stated, I’m a classmate.”

“We’re also bitter enemies,” Tamiko croaked, rubbing her eyes. “Rivals... in sewing, right?”

He averted his gaze and straightened. “Right. Now, if you must excuse me. I have to return to work.”

“Yes, of course. Go, go! Before you get in trouble with your boss. Thank you for escorting Kimura home.” Sango flapped her hand, grinning from ear to ear.

“Think nothing of it,” he said, turning and taking a couple of steps towards the door. He gestured to the bag on the coffee table. “My co-worker loaded it with medicine and sweets. He may have gone overboard.”

Sango peered into the bag and began pulling out a few things. “How nice! Be sure to thank him for us. This will be a big help.” She flipped over a bottle of cough syrup to read the back.

Uryu nodded, continuing his path to the door. He paused, his hand brushing against the knob. “Please, get some rest, Kimura. You’ve certainly earned it.” With that, he strode out the door.

“What a nice young man.” Sango turned to Tamiko and pushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “I wondered if there had been anything between you and Kurosaki or Sado, but now I know for sure. Ishida’s the one you have a crush on.”

“W-what?” Tamiko shot up, vigorously shaking her head. The movement caused the room to tilt. “No. Of course not! We’re not even friends. I mean. I try to be, but--” She choked on her words.

A hand patted her back, and she hid her face into the couch cushion. In a soft voice, Sango said, “There, there. Rest now. Like Ishida said, you deserve it! You can take my bed for the night, so you don’t have to climb those tedious stairs.”

Did she deserve to rest? Tamiko curled up into a ball, watching Sango hesitate in front of the stairs before racing up them. Given how she has treated her--probably one of Machiko’s closest friends--she didn’t feel like she deserved to rest.

And now she would be forced to spend more time with her. With the way Tamiko felt, rushing off to school seemed impossible. If that were the case, she may as well try to make the most of it by making it up to Sango. But how?

With a fever approaching 38 degrees and a decongestant, Tamiko found herself being tucked into Sango’s bed. A cool cloth was placed on her forehead with a smile. “Sleep well, Kimura. You should feel much better in the morning!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night dragged on. Just when Tamiko finally found herself drifting off, she was jolted awake by a coughing fit. Each time, Sango was by her side, rubbing her back and offering soothing words. She turned away from her, desperately trying to find a cooler spot on the pillow.

When light pierced through her eyelids, Tamiko groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. She rolled over, finding a more comfortable position. As she settled in, a tickle irritated her nose. Sneezing furiously, she scrambled for the box of tissues on the nightstand.

Once the fit ended, she flopped back down, intending to fall back to sleep. Except that a need for the bathroom made itself known, so she slowly got up.

So much for feeling better. Her nose felt even more clogged up, even after blowing it several times; her face and throat felt like they were on fire, and someone was driving a nail through her head.

Glasses were slipped on, and she stumbled out of the bedroom. A soft, singing voice floated from the kitchen. She held back a cough, treading through the living room.

Standing over the stove, Sango stirred a pot of bubbling rice porridge. “It’s so precious when you have good wishes. Open your eyes and see inside of your heart. Travelers. Just wandering around, gazing at this unending world.~” She hummed, setting aside the spoon and pulling the whistling kettle off the stove.

Tamiko continued to hold back her cough, not wanting to disrupt the moment.

After the tea was poured, Sango took back up the spoon and resumed, “My beloved friends, even if we run out of strength, let’s run through these times. My love, let’s eventually nurture eternity in this town. And then, someday, I’ll sing again, go on another journey.~”

The pressure in her chest grew, throat tingling. No longer able to hold back, she buried the cough into her elbow.

Sango whirled around, face flushing pink. She let out a breath, eyes glistening with a soft look. Setting down the spoon once more, she strode over to Tamiko. Her hand pressed against her forehead. “Dear, feels like that fever hasn’t gone down at all. How are you feeling?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came. All Tamiko could get out were a couple of squeaks.

“Oh, it’s alright.” Sango gently squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t try to strain yourself. Hungry? I’ve got a large pot of rice porridge and fresh fruit just about ready.”

A growling stomach answered, along with a smile and nod. She mouthed the word, “Bathroom.”

Laughter rang out. Sango removed her hand to wave it. “Right, of course! Oh, will you be alright getting up there on your own? I need to stay and make sure the food doesn’t burn.”

Tamiko gave a nod before making the arduous climb. After managing her business, she tidied up by washing her face, brushing her hair and teeth, and changing into fresh clothes.

By the time she returned to the kitchen, Sango had breakfast laid out. Steaming bowls of porridge, smaller bowls of mixed fruit, and cups of tea adorned the table. Sinking into her seat, Tamiko thumped her forehead against the table. A hand gently stroked her hair.

“I know you’re exhausted,” Sango said, “but food is vital. After you get some down, I promise you can go right back to sleep.”

“O-okay,” she whispered, gradually rising her head. She picked up her spoon and began to eat.

Half way through the meal, she groaned. Aches flared up all throughout her body. Her eyelids drooped, chin hit her chest, and her spoon clattered to the table.

Sango jumped, chair screeching. Her hand flew to her forehead and recoiled just as fast. “Dear! You’re on fire.” She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her up from the chair. “Come. Let’s get you on the couch.”

Tamiko staggered along and collapsed on the cushions. She didn’t fight the thermometer, closing her eyes. They shot open when it beeped.

“Up to 40 degrees.” Sango gasped over the reading. “I’m making you a doctor’s appointment right now. This could be something more than a mere cold.” She patted her on the head and rushed off to the phone.

Her body curled up. All Tamiko wanted to do was go back to sleep, to try and find some reprieve from the sickness that rampaged through her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took every ounce of strength Tamiko had not to curl up on the examining table as Dr. Okuma examined her and went over her symptoms. She flinched during the nose culture and gagged over the one with her throat.

When he left to attend to other duties, she lay down. The door opened and closed, and Sango took her hand. “Isn’t he great? It’s a nice coincidence that your doctor also happens to be my boss.”

“He’s also one of my dad’s colleagues,” Tamiko said, eyes half open. “I heard stories about him a lot. How the children call him ‘Dr. Bear.’”

“That they do.”

Silence hung over the room. A hand ran over Tamiko’s head, closing her eyes to the world.

“Did you know that your father saved my life?” Sango asked.

“No? I don’t think I’ve ever heard about that.”

“It happened when I was a baby. I wasn’t given much of a chance, but my father refused to give up. He discovered a doctor who could perform miracles! I owe these past 19 years of my life to Dr. Kimura.”

Miracles? Tamiko furrowed her brow. She has known her father to be a great physician, but never one that could perform miracles. Perhaps Sango was exaggerating.

“So you feel like you owe him,” Tamiko whispered. “As well as Machiko.”

Sango sighed, smiling at the ceiling. “In a way. Your family has done so much for me.”

Before Tamiko could say anything else, the door opened. Dr. Okuma returned with a smile. “Results came back negative for strep,” he reported, “but you do have a cold. Plenty of rest and fluids should help clear it up. Miss Daiichi, I’m giving you the day off and lighter hours this week. Miss Kimura is to take it easy to ensure she doesn’t develop any complications.”

“That’s great!” Sango cheered, squeezing Tamiko’s hand. “I couldn’t imagine a better birthday present!”

She propped herself up on the palms of her hands. “It’s birthday? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get sick on your birthday.”

“There’s no need to worry about it. Besides, isn’t this what I came here for? To help you out? It wouldn’t be anything short of what Machiko would have done.”

Tamiko nodded, eyes burning with tears. Yes, it would have been exactly what Machiko would have done. Stayed home and cared for her if classes weren’t vital. No question.

‘She’s not trying to replace Machiko,’ she repeated, closing her eyes as the tears fell. She sobbed until she fell into a fit of violent coughs.

Her back was rubbed, Sango whispering, “Dear, it’s alright. Shhh. Let’s get you home, and you can have a good, long nap.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for a mountain of tissues to form around Tamiko on the couch. No matter how many times she blew her nose, snot continued to stream down.

Sango held out a glass of water, the third one that afternoon. “Come on. Drink up! You need to stay hydrated.”

She nodded and laid aside yet another disgusting tissue; she downed the water and returned it to her before lying back down. On the TV, a colorful anime droned, but Tamiko ignored it. Instead, she watched Sango pull the blanket up around her and begin dropping the tissues into the wastebasket.

‘Today is her birthday,’ she thought, ‘and here she is forced to care for me. And what do I do in return? I resent her. There must be something I can do to make it up to her.’

“What would you like to do today?” she asked.

“I’m doing what I want to do. Taking care of you.” Sango giggled softly, braid swinging as she straightened.

“No, I mean something fun.”

A hand went to her chin, and she looked up towards the ceiling. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind just sitting down and watching a movie.” Her gaze drifted towards the shelf of VHS tapes by the TV.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Tamiko shot up, being rewarded with a cough for her sudden use of energy. “Why don’t we have an all night movie marathon? If we’re going to be up half the night because of my coughing, we may as well enjoy it.”

Her eyes lit up, and she exclaimed, “I think that’s a fantastic idea! You do have some of my favorite romance films.”

Tamiko glanced at the shelf before looking at the floor. “Machiko’s, actually.”

Sango walked over to the shelf, bending over to examine the selection. “Yes, I remember watching many of these with her in junior high. Oh, but which ones should we watch?” She scrambled over the shelf, pulling out movie after movie until she had a tower wobbling in her hands.

After dinner of oyakodon, the movie marathon got underway. Rice cakes, pastries from the convenience store, popcorn, sodas, and water were set out on the table. Sango took one end of the couch while Tamiko stayed on the other.

The first film was about a young woman who wrote to her dead fiance and got a reply from a woman with the same name. They wrote back and forth with the former believing she’s getting letters from heaven. Sango was bawling over it, but she refused to switch to a different movie.

Half way through, her tears stopped and Tamiko’s eyelids drooped. She fought to keep them open, but they won. Next time she opened her eyes, another movie had been put into the player. It was based off of a manga series, and Sango gushed over it. At least she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Again, Tamiko drifted off and awoke to a completely different scene playing on the TV. How long this went on for, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she couldn’t seem to stay awake.

Then there was fear. Heart pounding, sweat dampening clothes fear. She heard a voice crying, screaming until coughs took over. It seemed to last for hours before everything became quiet.

She blinked open her eyes to a blue lit room. The source of the light was the TV, stuck on the channel for the VCR. A damp cloth clung to her forehead. Beside the couch, fast asleep, was Sango.

‘What happened?’ Tamiko wondered, looking around the room for any indication of the time. ‘Did Miss Daiichi stop watching to take care of me?’ Her nose stung, and she sneezed into the cushion.

Sango awoke with a start, eyes popping and body leaping back. She regained her composure, putting a hand on Tamiko’s cheek. “Are you alright? Your fever spiked and you had such a horrible nightmare.”

“Ni-night--” Tamiko couldn’t get the word out, her voice gone once again. Instead, she mouthed the word.

“Yes. I barely got you awake enough to take some medicine. I was certain I’d have to call an ambulance!”

Tamiko looked around again, trying to seek some kind of clue to remind her exactly what had happened, but nothing. She mouthed, “Don’t remember.”

“Don’t fret over it.” Sango brushed her thumb against her cheek, waving her free hand around. “What matters is that you’re safe now. We’ll get you all fixed up, so you can go back to sleep.”

“But what about... the movie?” she managed to squeak out, sitting up on her elbow.

“I can always pop in another one. Your health comes first.” Sango disappeared into the kitchen.

A couple of tears leaked out, her head hitting the pillow. ‘Some birthday,’ Tamiko thought. ‘I just wanted her to have a good time, and then I go and get worse on her.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An entire day became a blur. Tamiko was in and out of sleep so much that she wasn’t aware of the passage of time. One moment, it was broad daylight and the next, the sun had set. She couldn’t even remember eating anything, but she felt certain she had.

By Sunday morning, she felt mildly better, managing to eat a normal breakfast of eggs and soft toast. When the afternoon rolled around, she loaded up a video game.

Sango smiled, stepping out of her bedroom in hospital scrubs. She asked for the fifth time that day, “Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

Tamiko didn’t remove her eyes from the screen. “It’s only a four hour shift,” she said, giving a small grin. “Most likely, you’ll find me in the same position I am now. Only difference will be what game I’m playing.”

“You do seem to have perked up since yesterday.” She moved her hands over her hair, making sure her braid was tucked in. “Call me immediately if your fever spikes again. And don’t forget to drink some water.”

She managed a weak laugh before it turned into a cough. “I got it. Four hours, and I’ll be fine.”

As soon as the door closed behind Sango, Tamiko placed the controller down and headed upstairs. She tidied herself up, thinking, ‘I owe her for all that she’s done for me. I’ll get her a proper birthday present. One of those big, delicious apple cakes with real apples on top. She’d love it.’

Mask on, she set out for the store. A few minutes later, and it felt like the sun was right on top of her. Her head started to pound and sweat dripped off her chin, giving her a sense of deja vu.

A sigh of relief escaped as soon as she stepped into the cool air of the supermarket. The cake was found and placed into a shopping basket. She also snagged a bouquet of blue hydrangeas.

Back outside, Tamiko stumbled along, clutching the shopping bag and flowers with both hands. The sidewalk shifted underfoot. She caught herself on a streetlight, trying to shake off the dizziness.

“Tamiko!” a voice exclaimed. Footsteps pounded against the concrete until Ichigo stood before her. His hand went to her forehead and recoiled. “Gah! You’re burning up! What are you doing out here like this?”

“Came...” She held up the shopping bag and flowers. “...to get a birthday cake.”

“Birthday cake?” A clueless look evolved into a scowl. “You could have just called me if you needed something. Or Inoue! We could have gotten it for you.”

Now that he mentioned it, she realized that would have been the wiser decision. However, she shook her head. “I needed to do it myself. I owe--” Coughs erupted. She slid towards the ground, his arms shooting out and catching her.

“Ichigo!” Rukia called, her voice piercing through the air. Tamiko groaned in response. “Kimura! What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s sick,” he said, scooping Tamiko up. Her head fell against his arm. “Here, take her things. We have to get her home.”

“Hey, I’m not your servant!”

“Just shut up and do it.” The scowl returned, directed at Rukia. “She came out while she was sick to get a birthday cake and flowers for someone. It would be a shame for her efforts to go to waste.”

She didn’t appear to have a retort, taking the bag and flowers carefully. She trailed behind them. Ichigo carried Tamiko down several blocks to her apartment, where she was lowered onto the couch.

He snatched and handed her the thermometer. “Here, check your temperature, and I’ll get you something to drink,” he instructed. After she took the device, he stepped towards the kitchen. “Come on, Rukia. We need to get those flowers into some water.”

“I’m aware of that, Ichigo,” Rukia sniped, following him. “You don’t need to order me around.”

Their banter carried into the kitchen, and Tamiko rubbed her head. She lowered the mask, turned the thermometer on, and slid it into her mouth.

A loud bang, followed by Ichigo swearing reached her ears. She leaned forward to try and see what was happening through the doorway, but all that could be seen was one of the chairs and the window.

“Shit!” he yelled, and something shattered, the sound ringing out over the apartment. Her eyes went wide. She moved to get up, but it felt as if her limbs were weighed down. As if reading her mind, he called, “Nothing to worry about, Tamiko! I’ll make sure Rukia cleans it up.”

Rukia sputtered before yelling, “Me!? You were the one who knocked that glass down, Ichigo!”

Somehow, Tamiko heard the thermometer beep over the discord. She pulled it out to see a 39 degree reading.

Ichigo returned with a glass of water and damp washcloth. The cloth went on her forehead and the glass of water was handed to her. He took the thermometer, eyebrow twitching at it. “You were outside like this? Take a long drink. You need it.” He set the device down, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

She felt small under his gaze, quickly doing as he said. The small sip made her flinch, the liquid feeling more like shards of glass. It was drained regardless, and he took it from her.

When Rukia walked in with the vase of flowers, he thrusted the glass at her. “Could you fill this back up?”

She scoffed, setting the flowers down on the coffee table. “Can’t you do it yourself?” she asked, hands going to her hips.

“Just do it. Tamiko’s running a high fever and needs fluids.” He ran a hand through his hair as Tamiko sneezed. “Or would you rather wipe her nose?”

“Got it,” Rukia deadpanned and returned to the kitchen with the glass.

Ichigo handed the tissues to Tamiko, and she grabbed one. While she blew her nose, he asked, “So are you going to tell me who the cake and flowers are for? Must be for someone pretty important, if you’re desperate enough to drag yourself out of bed.”

“My new roommate.” She folded the tissue to wipe at her nose. “Her birthday was the day before yesterday, and she spent the entire day taking care of me. I wanted to make it up to her.”

“But that’s not your fault!” he blurted out, Rukia stepping back into the room and blinking. “Then you went out and made yourself worse. Do you really think that’ll make up for anything?”

Again, Tamiko felt small. She lowered her head, arguing, “I was feeling better. Thought I’d be okay just running to the supermarket and back.”

Rukia gave her the glass of water, and she took it.

“Clearly not,” Ichigo retorted, looking around. “Where is this roommate, anyway? Wouldn’t she have stopped you from going out like this?”

A sip of water was taken before Tamiko answered, “Work. She should be home in another couple of hours.”

“Then we’re going to stay right here with you.”

“Wait a minute, Ichigo,” Rukia said, and he glanced back at her. His expression became a blend of a pout and his usual scowl, lower lip overtaking his face. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting back for your--”

“This is way more important than that!” He snapped, crossing his arms stubbornly. “We can’t leave a sick girl alone like this. What if she gets worse? We aren’t going anywhere until that roommate of hers gets back.”

She turned away. “Then you better not get mad when you get back to a cold birthday dinner.”

Tamiko jerked up, eyes widening at his stiffening body. “It’s your birthday?”

A sigh answered her. “Yeah,” he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. “Every year, my family puts on an act of kicking me outta the house in order to surprise me with a big dinner and cake. Wish they wouldn’t go to so much trouble.”

“But that’s great that you have a family willing to do that for you. I’m sorry, Ichigo. You shouldn’t be here.” She sniffed, trying to hold back a waterfall of mucus.

“Blow,” he said, holding a tissue to her nose. She did, but let out a sob at the same time. “What’s wrong? It can’t simply be because you’re keeping me away from my dinner, can it?”

“Having Miss Daiichi here has rubbed me the wrong way,” she said, running her hands over her eyes to rid herself of the tears. “She’s done all of the cooking and cleaning, and I’ve been avoiding her. Thought I could make it up to her by giving her a good birthday.”

“You’ve been avoiding her? Why?”

She heaved with fresh sobs. “Because I thought she was here to take Machiko’s place. But I know that isn’t true. It felt bad, having her do everything Machiko did.”

“Then all you gotta do is apologize. Tell her how you’ve been feeling. You didn’t have to strain yourself to get a cake and flowers for that, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gesture.”

“I will. Thanks, Ichigo.”

Once she had calmed down and finished another glass of water, she lay down. She watched Rukia as she wandered around the apartment. Nothing about her gave the impression that she was sick. The only thing off was her weakening reiryoku.

Her exploration paused, and she leaned forward to examine the SNES beside the TV. A hand went to her chin. “You have something like this at your place, don’t you, Ichigo? It’s intriguing. How does it work?”

“Here. Let me show you,” Ichigo said, striding over and turning both electronics on.

The game Tamiko had been playing earlier popped on the screen. The startup screen showcased a long stairway that led up to a shrine. Two characters, a shrine priestess and tanuki, ran down the stairs. The start up music blared out of the speakers.

Tamiko snickered at Rukia jumping back from it. “W-what sorcery is this?” she asked, walking around to look behind the TV.

Ichigo groaned and rolled his eyes. “You ought to know by now how a TV works. You’ve been here over two months. It’s not like it’s rocket science or something.”

“What’s rocket science?”

He choked, a blank look replacing the bored one. “N-never mind.”

Rukia glared at him, hands on her hips. “Well excuse me for not knowing your advanced technology,” she grumbled. “It just so happens that we don’t have such devices in the Soul Society.”

“Then I suggest you get studying,” he said, shoving a controller into her hands. “These things are big with high schoolers. You want to be able to act better in front of our classmates, don’t you?”

“I suppose.” Her eyes darted between him and the controller.

Thus began an hour and a half of Rukia trying to get through the first level with Ichigo as her guide. Tamiko watched, chest aching from coughing and laughing so much. If she had the energy to do so, she would have shown off how she could beat the game within 45 minutes.

In the middle of an argument over how to play the game, the door opened. Ichigo and Rukia froze, watching Sango walk in.

“Kimura!~ I’m home. How are you feeling any be--” She froze, looking from Tamiko, to Ichigo, and then to Rukia. “You have friends over? How nice!” Her cheerful face faded at Tamiko’s cough.

“Yeah.” She removed the washcloth and sat up. “They’re a couple of friends from school. You saw them at Machiko’s wake. Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki.”

The smile returned to Sango’s face. “That’s right! I recognize them. Especially this one. One could never mistake that orange hair of yours.”

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head. “Right,” he mumbled. He glanced at her. “You must be Sango Daiichi. Nice to meet ya.”

Rukia jumped up and bowed. “Yes, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, no, the pleasure is all mine.” Sango waved both hands towards them. “So you stopped by for a visit?”

A brief exchange of glances passed between the three.

“No, actually...” Tamiko squeaked. “Miss Daiichi, I...”

“We should be going,” Ichigo interjected, grabbing Rukia’s arm and starting for the door.

“There’s no need to grab me,” she hissed, fighting against his hold.

Sango blinked as they walked by. “So suddenly?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you like to stay for dinner? I’m making Tamiko’s favorite ramen tonight.”

“No thanks.” Ichigo held up a hand and grinned. He ignored Rukia’s punching and kicking him in an attempt to break free. “We have somewhere we need to be. Take care now, Tamiko. Feel better soon!”

Tamiko returned the gesture with a wave and weak grin. “Thanks, Ichigo. Oh, and happy birthday!”

With a beaming smile, Sango bowed to Ichigo and Rukia. “Thanks so much for keeping Kimura company. I’m so glad that she’s found so many good friends here!”

“It’s no problem.” He grunted from a jab to the jaw. “Always happy to help.” They disappeared out the door, Rukia’s protests growing muffled by the closing door.

A giggle shook her shoulders as she looked at the game stuck in the middle of a level. “My, what an interesting pair. Looks like they had fun with your game.”

“Yeah, they did,” Tamiko whispered, looking away.

A hand pressed against her forehead. “Dear, your fever. Feels like it’s gone up again,” Sango said, sitting down beside her. Her eyes darted to the table. “Where did those flowers come from?”

Fresh tears poured down Tamiko’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Miss--Sango!” she exploded. “You’ve done nothing but help me, and all I did was begrudge you in return. All because I thought you were replacing Machiko. Not that you were doing it on purpose. Just that you were here doing everything she used to, and--”

“Shhh, that’s enough now,” Sango said softly, placing a finger over Tamiko’s lips. “None of this is your fault. So much has happened to you these last couple of months. Of course you’d be scared of someone replacing your sister. I forgive you, Tamiko.”

Relief flooded through her. It was as if a giant weight had been removed from her shoulders.

“I went out to get you a birthday present, a cake and the flowers. My fever went up, and that’s why Ichigo and Kuchiki were here. They helped me get back home and stayed until you got back.”

“Then I am especially grateful that they were there to help you. You have such good friends. Every single one of them. That makes me happy!”

“They are,” she agreed, “and I could learn a lot from them. And you, because you’re a good friend too, Sango. I’m sorry that I haven’t been a good one in return.”

“Oh, no, dear.” Sango shook her head, smiling at the flowers. “While it was a stupid thing to do, risking your health to get them, the fact you did proves that you’re a great friend.”

Her head lowered, understanding completely what she had done wrong. An arm wrapped around her, and she rested her head against Sango’s shoulder. “You’re right. It was a dumb thing to do, going out like this.”

“As long as you’ve learned your lesson, then all is forgiven.”

Tamiko allowed a small smile to grow. “We’ll both have our favorite foods tonight. Ramen and an apple cake.”

“That sounds lovely!” Sango cheered. “I’ll get the food started.”

“And I’ll set the table.”


	10. The Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, Uryu's battle with Ichigo begins. But it isn't what Tamiko expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.

“Look, isn’t it great?” Sango beamed, turning the thermometer around to show off the 36 degree reading. “Your fever has now been gone for a full 24 hours. Are you feeling better?”

“Mildly. Still stuffed up and coughing my lungs out. Otherwise...” Tamiko sprang off of the couch, one hand holding the blanket around her shoulders while the other went up into the air. “I feel great!”

A coughing fit was her reward, sending her right back on the couch. Sango chuckled in her ear, hand patting her back. “That cough won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, but your fever breaking is a good sign.”

“Does this mean I can go to school tomorrow?”

Her question was met with a skeptical look, Sango biting her lip. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

“Aww, please?” she begged, clasping her hands together and giving the best puppy dog eyes she could manage. “Orihime said that results will be posted then. I need to see how I did.”

Sango folded her arms, putting on her ‘stern mother’ mask. When Tamiko let out a whimper, she sighed, the expression melting into a soft look.

“I suppose as long as you take it easy,” she consented, and shook her head at Tamiko’s triumphant smile. “Now go get some rest. You’ll need it to make it to school in the morning.”

At those words, Tamiko flew up the stairs and packed her bag. Her uniform was laid out on the bed, laughing at the thought of being excited to go back to school. However, the excitement faded as she crawled under the covers and hugged the red panda.

Nothing has changed--as far as she was aware--between Ichigo and Uryu. Orihime reported that they ran out of class every single day within a few seconds of each other. Of course, she compared them to superheroes, off to fight crime together. If only that were true.

A Hollow’s howl shattered her thoughts. Tamiko peeked out towards the window, waiting for the inevitable. Minutes ticked by, and Uryu took the Hollow down. He stayed in the area as Ichigo arrived in his search for the beast. Then Uryu...

She shot up, hugging the stuffed animal tighter. Were they close enough to see each other? Could Uryu be...?

Time stood still. She waited, straining her perception for any sign of a fight breaking out: A raise of reiatsu or the reishi that made up Uryu’s bow and arrows.

Instead, another Hollow faded into existence within their presence. There was the reishi from Uryu’s weapon, taking it out. Was he showing off for Ichigo?

When they parted, Tamiko flopped back down, drained. At least they didn’t appear to fight each other, but what did that mean? What was Uryu up to?

Now she was determined to make it to school tomorrow. She had to figure out what was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning, Ishida!” Tamiko chimed, hoarse voice muffled by the mask over her mouth and nose. Even though he couldn’t see it, she still smiled.

The book Uryu had been reading thumped to the desk. His chair screeched, hand flying to her forehead. She blinked, taking in the concern wrinkling his brows. A sigh left his mouth.

“Kimura, what are you doing here?” he asked, hand lifting away. “It’s clear you haven’t gotten over that cold yet.”

“I feel much better. Fever’s been gone for nearly two whole days.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “Anyway, I had to come to school today. Term results.”

Returning the look, he said, “I see.” His glasses were pushed up. “Stay out of it. This is between Kurosaki and I, and you shouldn’t be getting involved while you are still unwell.”

She remembered something. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? Today, of all days.”

“It is none of your concern.” He sat down and took back up his book. The cross swayed from the movement.

‘I’ll stay out of it,’ she thought, trudging to her desk. ‘Because I don’t know what I can do to prevent it from happening. With any luck, they’ll work things out with words rather than weapons. Or fists.’

The moment she sat down, her head hit the desk. While she was feeling better, the walk to school winded her more than usual. A few minutes to rest her eyes before class would help.

Though, when she sensed Ichigo drawing closer, she glanced up. She watched as he and Rukia stepped into the room, their faces contorted in confusion. Neither of them looked at Uryu as they walked by, and his reiatsu flared.

“W-what?” Tamiko squeaked, chills running through her body. It was exactly like before, but she could have sworn that Uryu had confronted Ichigo last night. Shouldn’t Ichigo have realized who he was by now?

“Oh, Tamiko!” She straightened at the appearance of Orihime rushing over to her. “You’re back. How are you feeling?”

“About as well as expected, still gunked up but better. I couldn’t wait around all day to find out the term results, so I came to see them for myself.”

“I’m glad. And I’m positive you did well. You worked so hard.”

Tamiko rubbed the back of her neck. “Thanks. I’ll just be glad when we can see them.”

It wasn’t until after classes that results were posted for the world to see. Heart banging, Tamiko scanned the names, starting from the top. ‘Ishida, Kunieda, Orihime...’ Her eyes finally landed on hers. ‘Tamiko Kimura... 10.’

One point. Her score was one point higher than Chad’s, who sat at the 11th spot. Relief flooded through her, taking every ounce of her strength not to fall over. At last, she could breathe again. No summer school, and her mother wouldn’t be dragging her back home. She let out a whoop that sounded more like a dying cat than celebratory noise. Out of relief and how ridiculous she sounded, she doubled over with laughter and coughs.

“You alright there, Tamiko?” Tatsuki asked. She, Orihime, and the other girls joined her to see the results.

“Definitely.” Tamiko straightened and tapped her name.

Orihime lit up like a light bulb. “You did so well. I knew you would!”

“Yeah, I did well, but look at where you placed,” she said, pointing up.

Tatsuki patted a giggling Orihime on the head. “As usual, you did great.”

The chatter of the other girls turned into a buzz while Tamiko stared at Uryu’s name. It was impressive that he made it to the top of the class. Especially while antagonizing Ichigo.

Speaking of Ichigo, he appeared with Keigo, Mizuiro, and Chad. She grinned when Keigo made the horrific discovery that Ichigo and Chad made it well into the top 50, with the former making it to the 23rd rank.

‘Must be nice,’ she thought, watching the drama unfold, ‘not to have to worry about getting high scores on exams. Lucky devils.’

Ichigo rolled his eyes at Keigo’s antics. When everything calmed down, he looked to the floor and glared. A vein pulsed on his forehead. “Ishida? What was his given name again? Kaito? No... that’s not it.”

‘Is he serious?’ Tamiko wondered, nearly falling over in surprise. ‘After meeting him, he still doesn’t remember his name? Maybe he really is that dense.’ She bit her lip, grateful for the mask that concealed half her face.

“You mean Uryu Ishida?” Orihime asked, tilting her head.

“Huh?” Ichigo snapped towards her. “Inoue! You know him?”

Orihime nodded and pointed up at the rankings. “Yeah, he’s in our class. See! He’s at the top!”

“Wha...!?” His eyes grew, turning his head to look up. “He is?”

“You’ll find that Ichigo forgets faces and the names goin’ with them,” Tatsuki said, shrugging. “Chance are, he doesn’t even remember half the class.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, glaring at her and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Tamiko took in her feet, thinking, ‘That’s odd, because he remembered my name and face on our first day of school together. Then again, I was put front and center with every eye on me. No one seems to notice Ishida, and...’

“Well, Ishida doesn’t talk much,” Orihime explained, as if reading her mind. “He doesn’t stand out, so he might be hard to remember. Right, Tamiko?”

Her head snapped up. “Ahh...” A sneezing fit helped delay her response.

Ichigo stepped closer, glare transforming into a look of concern. “Tamiko! When did you get here?”

She managed a painful laugh. “I’ve been here all day. Didn’t you hear me hacking up a lung at my desk earlier?”

Okay, maybe he was dense.

“N-no.” He looked away, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought you’d still be at home. Which you should be, judging by the sound of that cough!”

After clearing her throat, she said, “I dare you to find someone with a cough that didn’t sound bad. I’m fine. Haven’t had a fever for two days now. Want to check?” She grinned, leaning closer to him.

His eyes leered at her. “It’s fine. I believe you,” he deadpanned. “What I’m wanting to know is how Inoue--and apparently you--know this Uryu Ishida guy.”

Tamiko took a step back, holding up her hands. “Actually, I promised Ogawa I’d help her with something, so I need to get going. See you all later!” And she briskly strode past them, ignoring Ichigo’s yelling for her to come back.

In the Home Handicrafts room, Uryu had his nose in a book. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Of course, he didn’t look up when she approached him. “Good afternoon, Ishida.”

The usual hum and nod answered, and she continued to the back of the room. Michiru waited for her there, watching her take a seat. She hugged a toy to her chest.

“How can you talk to him like that?” she asked, prompting a blink from Tamiko. “Well, he’s scary. Ishida always looks upset about something, never smiling. How can you just walk up to him like that?”

“Aw, that’s just a mask.” Tamiko giggled and poked at the one she was wearing. “A metaphorical one! He’s really not that scary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Michiru glanced warily at Uryu before holding out the toy. “Anyway, here’s what I needed help with. I’ve been trying to fix this tear for weeks now, but it always pops back open. Do you think you could fix it?”

The rip sat in the plush’s shoulder, cotton sticking out. It wasn’t a long tear, but wide, and it would be difficult to get strong, even stitches to repair it completely. Tricky, but not impossible. Tamiko opened her mouth to confirm that she could, but Uryu moved in the corner of her eye.

“Actually, I don’t think I could fix it, Ogawa,” she said.

“W-what?” Michiru asked, frowning. “You really can’t?”

“Sorry, but my hands are a bit unsteady because of my cold. I think you should ask Ishida.”

She received a horrified look in response. “H-him? But why?”

“Ishida is far better at sewing than I am.”

Michiru looked back at Uryu, hunching over his book. “I-I wouldn’t want to disrupt his reading.”

“Go on! I promise that he doesn’t bite.” Tamiko pulled down her mask to give her a reassuring smile.

“Okay.” Michiru slowly got up and shuffled her way over to Uryu.

Tamiko pulled her mask back up. She leaned forward, watching the scene.

No surprise that Uryu agreed to fix the toy. Within a matter of two minutes, the wide tear was sewn shut and it flew back into Michiru’s hands. A large smile broke out on her face, marveling over his handiwork. “Wow, you fixed it! Thanks so much, Ishida.”

“There’s no need for gratitude,” he said, pushing up his glasses and giving Tamiko a side glance. “In fact, don’t speak to me ever again.” His nose went back into the book.

The smile was wiped clean off Michiru’s face. She hugged the toy, backing away. “R-right. Sorry.”

Tamiko glared daggers at the back of his head. Her expression softened when Michiru sank into the chair beside her.

“I’m sorry, Ogawa,” she said. “He’s not usually that rude.”

‘Well, maybe he is,’ she thought, brushing her thumb against one of the bandages on her keychain. ‘Today is a bad day, after all. And it’s about to get worse.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With hands glued to the straps of her backpack, Tamiko trudged home. A short distance away, Ichigo trailed behind Uryu. They were moments away from their fight.

‘It is best to stay out of it,’ she reminded herself. ‘They’ll work it out. I hope.’

Tales of Ichigo’s exploits came to mind. While she felt certain he wouldn’t go so far as to seriously injure Uryu, she expected to see both boys covered in bruises and bandages at school the next day. With any luck, they would manage to talk it out before it reached that point.

The air became still. No breeze and no sounds, as if the whole world suddenly stopped moving. Tamiko froze as well, looking to the sky. She stood, almost like she was waiting for something to happen.

When it did, her heart stopped. A large crack tore open the sky. A Hollow entered her perception, but it was quickly taken out by Uryu’s arrow. Two more took its place across town. They wouldn’t stop, popping up like popcorn until there were dozens of them.

Sweat broke out on her forehead. Without a second thought, Tamiko closed off her reiatsu to avoid detection. “What’s going on? Why are there so many Hollows all of a sudden?”

More continued to crop until she lost count. She bolted. Stashed away, inside her room, was a staff. She needed to get to it before a Hollow found her first.

“Whoa! Hey, Tamiko!” a voice called out, and she skidded to a halt in a fit of coughs. “Are you okay?” Someone dropped down beside her.

She panted, turning and coming face to face with Ichigo’s wide, scowl-less eyes. “Wait,” she gasped. “Kon? Ichigo must have used you to get out of his body to fight the Hollows.”

“Man, you sound terrible,” Kon said, and she scowled at him. “Yeah, sort of. Pulled me outta my body this morning just so he could fight this Uryu Ishida guy.”

“That makes sense. So the Hollows started appearing before he could?”

He crossed his arms. “No. It was Ishida’s doing. He just snapped some bait, and all of these Hollows started appearing!”

Those words caused her heart to drop. “He what!?”

“Called it a ‘game.’ To see who could destroy the most Hollows in 24 hours.”

“A game.” Her heart stopped beating altogether. “What kind of a game has you calling a horde of Hollows!?” The outburst sent her heaving with coughs.

Kon hastily patted her on the back. “Hey, calm down. That cough. You sick with something?”

“Never mind that.” She cleared her throat and tried to sense out where Uryu was. Her brows knitted together and eyes clenched. It was no good. Neither his reiatsu nor the reishi from his weapons came to her perception. “Ugh. With all these Hollows around, I can’t even sense Ichigo! Kon, where--”

Her eyes widened, head snapping in the direction of the apartment. Maybe she couldn’t sense anyone, but she definitely got the feeling that something big was heading straight for Sango. Without another word to Kon, she took off.

“H-hang on!” he called after. “Tamiko!”

Nothing else mattered. All Tamiko knew was that she needed to reach the apartment and grab her staff. She needed to get there before...

A scream shot through the air. What little reiatsu Sango had hit her senses, and it was growing weaker.

The first thing Tamiko saw, as she rounded the corner, was a long, scythe-like tail; it wavered in the air like a cat’s. A skeletal frame encased its body, appearing to connect to its mask. Sharp claws dug into the concrete. It let out a ferocious roar. A weak sob replied.

Before it, Sango sprawled on the ground, clutching a bleeding arm. Tears poured down her ghostly cheeks. “P-please... I’m begging you! L-leave us alone!”

Her heart lurched, Tamiko skirting into a nearby alley. With the Hollow blocking the front door to the apartment, she would have to break in. Along the way, she scooped up a rock.

“My dear Sango,” she heard it reply, voice as deep as the abyss. “How can you say such a thing to me? I’ve come to take you home, where you belong.”

There came more pleading sobs while Tamiko froze in front of the kitchen window. When the Hollow spoke again, she hurled the rock through the glass. The voice halted, and she scrambled to get into the apartment. She winced, and blood dripped from jagged glass.

Ignoring it, she crawled in and made a beeline for the stairs. Who cared if she still wore her shoes? Getting to the staff was far more vital.

“What was that?” the Hollow demanded. “Someone’s here. You’re so weak, but I can sense you. Is that her, dearest Sango? The girl who stole you away from me?”

Tamiko tore off her backpack, letting it drop where it may. She flung open the closet and snatched the staff’s case. The weapon was pulled free. Before she could resume running, she had to cough. She ripped the mask off and took deep breaths.

“Come on out, little girl,” the Hollow purred. “You and I have a score to settle. No one’s allowed to be near my Sango. She belongs to me and me alone!”

Grip tightening on the staff, she willed her legs to stop shaking. One last deep breath, and she flew back down the stairs and out the door. She choked, coming face to face with the Hollow.

Three horns and four tusks as thick as her legs bore down on her. Piercing red eyes seemed to sparkle with delight as he bellowed with laughter. She returned it with a glare.

“This is she?” he questioned. “Such a tiny thing! What are you going to do with that stick? Poke my eyes out?”

“If it gets you to leave Sango alone, then yes,” she shot back, surprised at how calm her voice sounded--a direct contrast to the storm of nerves swirling inside her.

“N-no!” Sango screamed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She held her arm tighter. “Please. Run, Tamiko!”

A bright, yellow light gathered within the indent on the Hollow’s forehead. It shot out, hitting Sango in the chest. She went flying. Her screams halted the moment she landed on her back, and she didn’t move again.

“Sango!” Tamiko yelled, rushing towards her, but the Hollow’s clawed hand shot out to block her path.

“Leave her. My darling will rest while I devour you.”

She gritted her teeth, jumping away from him. His tail lashed out, and she dove out of its way. Barely a second and she was up and moving again. The tail swung back around, and she veered back into the alley. It collided with the buildings, too large to fight through.

Pressing up against the wall, she rasped with coughs. Her arm shot up to wipe away the snot pouring from her nose.

Above her, the tail squirmed, lodged within concrete and drywall. Here was her chance. She gulped and rushed out of the alley, her staff raised in preparation for a strike.

Once again, one of the clawed hands shot out. It flexed and swiped. Searing pain rippled through her, and she slammed into the ground. Crying, her hand went to her leg. Warm blood oozed from the wound.

“You aren’t the first to try such a trick,” the Hollow said. There came the ear piercing screech of him freeing his tail. “Incapacitating my tail and then going in for a strike. Clever, but so cliche.”

No time to look over the wound. Tamiko used her staff as a support to get back up. A cry left her lips as she leaned heavily against it. She looked up just in time to see the tail coming back towards her.

Unable to run, she pivoted away. When the tail came back, she repeated the movement. Using the staff as a replacement leg, she twisted and turned away from each swipe.

It was getting her nowhere. She needed an opening to strike. Each time she dodged, his tail swung back faster. She made the split-second decision to block rather than dodge and shakily raised the staff.

The attack struck it, shoving her back. Wood cracked. It split apart, and the scythe swiped through her stomach. She screeched, slamming into the ground. An arm pressed against the bleeding wound while her hand clutched a jagged half of the staff.

“It’s over.” The Hollow lumbered towards her. “How disappointing. I didn’t even need to use my paralysis beam on you. No matter. As soon as I devour you, I can at last be with my beloved.”

“No,” she whimpered, hand tightening. “I won’t let you...” Pain surged through her middle, sweat dripping down the side of her face.

The Hollow shook his head, looming over her. “You’re still going to resist? Look at you. Covered in blood and completely defenseless. You have no hope left.”

There had to be something, anything she could do. Some way to avoid her fate and prevent that monster from whisking Sango away. Tamiko glanced at the broken staff. There was one way, but would it work? She bowed her head, turning the weapon so the jagged edges pointed up.

His tail swung to hang over her. “Yes, that’s right. All you can do is give up. If a Soul Reaper couldn’t tear Sango and I apart, what made you think you could? Her own father couldn’t do it, and he’s the one who did this to me!”

Her breath caught in her throat. Sango’s father killed him? Tamiko stared at the ground, pouring reiryoku into the staff.

“They all failed!” he bellowed with a manic laugh. “None of them could destroy the love that we have. And now I will take her back with me. To Hueco Mundo, where we can be together forever!”

As the tail descended, the staff erupted with a yellow light. It ascended, slicing through the scythe. One half crashed to the ground.

The Hollow howled. “W-what!? Reishi? But you’re weak! You shouldn’t...”

“Goes to show you... don’t judge others on appearances.” She managed a wan smirk.

With a snap of her wrist, the reishi staff was pulled back. His eyes widened, a flicker of fear before it sliced straight through his mask. The tail swayed, falling to the ground with a thud. Tamiko stared into his eyes while a bright light enveloped him. Like with the Hollow that Uryu had killed, he faded within that light.

It was over. She collapsed, body curling around the wound in her stomach. Blood soaked into her arms. The only sound she could make were feeble sobs. Her heart thudded, syncing with the throbbing from her injuries. Was she going to bleed out?

Above her, Hollows howled. Perhaps she wouldn’t bleed to death after all. Not if one of those monsters got to her first. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for something to find her.

“Now, now,” Urahara’s voice came suddenly, hand lying on her head. “You’ll be fine, Tamiko.”

“S-Sango,” she rasped.

“She’ll be fine too. Rest now.”

The words were reassuring, his voice soothing. She embraced unconsciousness with open arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coughing. That would be the thing to pull her out of a peaceful slumber, as it had for the last week. Something was different, though. A stiff, ache permeated her body.

Tamiko groaned and shifted, stretching out the muscles in her arms and legs. Big mistake. The dull ache evolved into throbbing pains in her stomach, leg, and arm. The sharp breath she drew in only intensified the pain in her middle.

A damp cloth gently laid on her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered open to a blurry figure leaning over her. “W-where? Who?”

“Why, you’re here with me at the shop,” Urahara said softly, his hat and concerned face coming into focus. “You took a beating, but we got you patched up. That fever’s made a comeback, though. Ururu’s off fetching some medicine, and she should be back soon.”

“M-medicine? No...” She rolled over to make an escape attempt. Her wounds seared. Instead of getting away, she wound up curling into a ball, arms pressing against her stomach.

His hand rested against her head. “Now, now. No need to fret,” he whispered. “We wouldn’t dare make the same mistake twice! It’s only some pain medicine, decongestant, and cough syrup--all to help you have a restful sleep.”

The door slid open, and Ururu walked in with a pharmacy and glass of water on a tray. She knelt beside Tamiko, handing it over to Urahara. “Mr. Kisuke, I got everything you asked for.”

“Thanks, Ururu,” he chimed. “Go on and finish getting ready. We’ll soon be needed on the battlefield.”

“Y-yes.” She bowed and left, sliding the door shut behind her.

Battlefield? Horror squeezed Tamiko’s heart, memories flooding into her mind. Hollows, far too many to count, roaming all over town. One in particular targeting Sango.

“Sango?” She tried to get up again, sweat breaking out on her temple from the strain. Managing to get herself propped up, she scanned the room, but the only people in there were herself and Urahara. “Where...?”

“Here, at the shop,” he said, leaning forward to support her. “And she’s alright. The Hollow sliced into her arm, and whatever he did to paralyze her has worn off. She’s sedated, sleeping comfortably in the other room.”

“Does she know? Remember...”

“Medicine first.~” He scooped up three pills, two of which were white while the third was light blue. They were dropped into her hand, and he mimed putting them into his mouth.

Tamiko sneered at him, but she did as directed. The muscles in her face flinched as she swallowed each pill with a gulp of water. “Now will you tell me?”

Her head was lowered back onto the pillow, and the washcloth returned to her forehead.

“We replaced her memories. It is unclear what she’ll remember when she wakes up, but I think you know the drill already.”

“Good. I didn’t want her to remember...” It dawned on her that she couldn’t sense Ichigo or Uryu over all of the Hollows. She shot up, hand going to her stomach. “What about Ichigo and Ishida? And the Hollows? I should...”

Urahara placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back down. “Your fight is over, and you came out victorious. Let them have theirs while you take a much deserved rest.”

Tears filled her eyes. “This is Ishida’s doing. He used some kind of bait to lure them for a ‘game.’” Her gaze flickered to Urahara, seeing that his hat was concealing his eyes. “You knew about it, didn’t you? About him killing Hollows before Ichigo could even get to them.”

“I did.”

“Then you must also know why. Why Ishida has a grudge against Soul Reapers. Please... tell me.”

“If you promise to rest afterwards.” She nodded in response. He adjusted his hat, revealing a pair of serious eyes. “What do you know of Quincies?”

“Not much,” she said, mind going back to her previous conversations with Uryu. “That Uryu is the last one, and that he fights Hollows with a reishi bow and arrow. Other than the weapons, how is that different from Soul Reapers?”

“While it may not seem like there’s much of a difference on the surface, it goes far deeper. You see, Quincies differ in how they kill a Hollow. A Soul Reaper’s Zanpakuto purifies the soul’s sins committed as a Hollow, sending them to the Soul Society. Quincies don’t believe in such mercy for monsters devouring their friends and family. They attack Hollows to kill.”

Yes, Uryu had confirmed as much when he first told her about Quincies, not denying that he lured Hollows in order to kill them. It was something she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on, especially after what had happened at the abandoned hospital.

“When you say ‘kill,’ then you mean that their souls are gone?” she asked, voice breaking.

Urahara nodded solemnly. His hand reached out to take hers. “That is an unfortunate truth about the Quincies. They were destroying Hollows in great numbers. The number of souls in this world and the Soul Society have to be kept even. With so many being killed, the scale started tipping towards this side. It would cause Soul Society to spill over on top of us. Such a thing would have caused the end of the world.”

His words echoed in her mind. “You mean the apocalypse? Like fire and brimstone? Massive earthquakes? Mass hysteria?”

“Something to that effect.”

“Then how did the Soul Reapers stop them?” She paused to let out a cough. “Because the world didn’t end.”

He squeezed her hand. “I believe you already know the answer, Tamiko.”

It clicked. Uryu was the last Quincy not because his entire family had died, but because...

“They killed them,” she squeaked, tears stinging her eyes.

“A painful last resort. The Soul Reapers approached the Quincies numerous times, but they refused to stop.” His thumb rubbed against the back of her hand.

“But they didn’t kill all of them. Ishida’s family survived. Could there be others?”

“Perhaps.” A thoughtful look crossed over his face. “Quincies used to be found living all around the world, so there may be a pocket or two hidden away somewhere. Although, it is unlikely. They were firm believers in keeping their bloodlines pure. With so few of them, they may have died out as well.”

The words felt like a knife in her heart. A reminder that Uryu truly was alone in the world. The last Quincy. No wonder he bore such a grudge. “Ishida was raised to hate Soul Reapers then.”

“No, Tamiko,” Urahara said, brushing away the tears that rolled down the side of her face. “That isn’t--”

The door slid open. Tessai knelt in the hallway, bowing his head. “Boss, they are beginning to wake up,” he informed. “And it shouldn’t be much longer.”

Tamiko blinked as Urahara gave her hand one last squeeze and rose to his feet. “’They?’ Who’s ‘they?’”

“Our guests,” Urahara chirped. “Do not fear. Your friends are perfectly well, having walked away from their fights with only a few minor injuries. I mustn’t keep them waiting. In the meantime, get some sleep.” He strode to the door.

“H-hey,” she called weakly, but the closing door was her response. She let out an exasperated groan.

Friends? Who? She closed her eyes, and faintly, she could make out Orihime’s and Chad’s reiatsu nearby. Safe to say that they fought Hollows as well. It was good that they came out of it unscathed.

There was still no sign of Ichigo and Uryu, though. Not through the horde of Hollows that were beginning to flock towards the park.

Wait, the park? Why were they heading there? Tamiko rolled over to face the door. ‘Could that be where Ichigo and Ishida are?’ she wondered.

Footsteps and muffled voices hit her ears. From what little she could discern, it seemed everyone but Sango was leaving the shop. Even Orihime and Chad. That seemed odd, but Urahara did say that their injuries were minor.

While sleep sounded like an excellent idea, how could she, when there were so many Hollows outside? Their distant howls bled through the walls. With the stiffness still in her limbs, she stood. A brief dizziness turned the room, and she stumbled forward. Through some miracle, she managed to remain standing.

She noticed her attire. A pair of shorts and a t-shirt from her dresser. Tugging down on the shirt, she glared. On it was a cat in a black mask, along with the words “Cat Burglar.”

‘And I’m supposed to be the thief?’ she wondered, wincing and placing a hand on her stomach. Tight bandages were wrapped around it along with her right leg and left arm. The wounds radiated pain, but it has dulled again, the medicine kicking in. ‘I have to find out what’s going on. Did Ishida snap more bait to draw them closer to him?’

With her reiryoku as deep as it could go within her, Tamiko slowly limped from the shop and made her way towards the park. When she was almost there, the reiatsu of a much stronger Hollow slammed into her. She leaned heavily against a streetlight, heaving with gasps.

It was nothing like she had ever sensed before. Not even the Hollow that Ichigo had fought a month ago could compare to it. A monster that felt like hundreds.

Upon looking up, she saw it. Ripping a hole in the sky, was a giant with a long, pointed nose and fingernails. Its hands were on either side of the opening, pushing until its head could fit through.

Tamiko swallowed, fighting against the waves of dizziness that hit. When they alleviated, she continued onward. She wasn’t sure what she could do against such a beast, but something told her that she needed to get to the park.

A strange scene was playing out. While the giant Hollow was taking a stroll, dozens of its smaller brethren were being taken out by Urahara’s employees. Ururu used a canon and Jinta a baseball bat. Tessai fought bare handed.

Beyond them were Ichigo and Uryu. They faced the monster with Ichigo’s Zanpakutō tied to Uryu’s head. That was an absurd way to fight a Hollow, but it made more sense when the bow of reishi materialized at twice its normal size.

Urahara stood nonchalantly, watching it all unfold. Beside him, Rukia was glued to the ground. She stared wide-eyed at the Hollow, her face as white as its mask.

Tamiko trembled like a leaf in the wind. A bright red light gathered within the Hollow’s mouth, reiryoku rising. It made her stomach leap into her throat.

Ichigo yanked his blade off of Uryu and rushed at the Hollow. The world was bathed in red, the light firing. The blade rose over Ichigo’s head to catch it, his reiatsu rocketing through the roof.

She found herself falling to her knees. The air around her grew thick with the clashing pressures. It weighed on her, and it became a battle just for her to stay conscious. She pressed a hand to her chest, coughing and retching as if her lungs were going to explode. The edges of her vision turned black, and just when she thought she would lose her fight, the Hollow’s reiatsu weakened.

Light returned to normal, and she looked up through blurry eyes to see the Hollow bleeding from a split down its side. It stepped back, fading into the hole it had come out of. And soon, they were both, the sky whole once more.

Her lungs filled with the fresh air she hungrily breathed in. It was over. No Hollows remained, the last ones falling to a cannon blast. Tamiko shakily sat on her hunches and watched Ichigo flash a victory pose to Uryu.

Neither of them were seriously injured from what she could see. That was more than what she had expected from their battle, and her heart rose in relief. She shifted, pulling her injured out from under her; she hissed from it.

“Kurosaki!?” Uryu’s voice rang out, a sound of utter surprise.

Tamiko jerked up, eyes settling on Ichigo laying face down on the ground. Before she could even wonder what was happening, she received an answer. The air grew thick with his reiatsu again, and sweat beaded on her forehead.

He screamed, as if in intense pain. His body and Zanpakutō writhed. The sight completely shattered her heart, having never seen him in such a state before. Ichigo has always seemed so indestructible, impervious to everything he had faced. But this was different. How?

‘It’s his reiryoku,’ Tamiko realized, every muscle in her body seizing. ‘It’s out of control. Like mine was. And Ishida...’

The bow formed in Uryu’s hand, much larger than it had been earlier. He pulled back and released an equally as large arrow. The reishi cut into his arm, blood splashing out. Despite that, he kept going. Arrow after arrow, each one adding to the lacerations on his body.

“Uryu!” Tamiko tried to scream, but her voice was nothing more than a rasp. No way could he hear her. Even if he could, she doubted he would stop.

So she hugged herself, wincing with each new wound that gushed blood. At least Ichigo no longer appeared to be in pain, having rolled over onto his back. He appeared to be trying to get Uryu to stop as well, but it didn’t do any good.

When the air finally cleared of reiryoku, Uryu dropped to his knees. His arms were torn to shreds, blood flowing into his school uniform.

Somehow, Tamiko found the strength to get up and rush over to him. She let out a cry, causing him to stiffly turn his head and Ichigo to prop himself up.

“Tamiko?” Ichigo mumbled. His eyes focused on her leg. “You’re hurt!”

It seemed like he was alright, even if his reiryoku was considerably weaker than normal. She gave him a soft glance before dropping down in front of Uryu.

He stared at her, mouth open. No sounds came. The sadness etched on his face transitioned to deep concern. Her hands twitched towards his arms, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch them in fear of adding to his pain. She met his gaze.

Everything surged up. A month’s worth of anger, worry, and stress mixed in with the grief of seeing them suffering. Tears poured down her cheeks and a stream of words flowed out of her mouth. “What were you thinking!? Calling forth a horde of demons into town, and for what? A grudge that doesn’t even involve Ichigo!”

Uryu’s eyes grew softer; they didn’t remove themselves from her or flinch. He didn’t even offer a defense.

“I thought... that you would have enough sense to talk it out. That you both did.” She glared at Ichigo and was met with a blank look. Her gaze returned to Uryu’s. “Or at the very least punch each other’s faces in. Not this! Not some ‘game’ that endangered other people’s lives. For the top of the class, you sure are an idiot.”

A mixture of sobs and coughs followed. One hand went to her stomach--it throbbed again--while the other covered her mouth. Snot ran down her hand.

Still, he didn’t say a word. Almost as if he was pleading for something. What, though? Was he pleading for her to stop berating him? Or because it was clearly causing her pain?

“Don’t ever do something like this again, Uryu Ishida,” she whispered. Warm blood seeped through her t-shirt when she let out another cough.

More silence. His eyes dropped down to her stomach and widened further. They swam with tears as they met hers again. He swallowed, the pleading intensifying.

Was he wanting her to say something in particular? She sniffled, gently taking his hands. “I forgive you.”

That must be it. The tears broke free, drenching his cheeks. He deflated. His eyes rolled into the back of his head before he fell, body slumping against hers.

“Uryu?” she cried, arms wrapping around him. His blood soaked into her clothes.

Ichigo let out a long groan. “Now I can’t beat him up,” he said. “Just look at him. Pathetic. Damn it!”

“Please, try not to sound too disappointed.” Tamiko put a hand against the back of Uryu’s head. “Come on. Let’s get you all patched up, okay?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awareness came gradually. The first thing Uryu noticed was a sweet, musty scent. Certainly not the odor of his apartment, nor was it the hospital’s--thankfully. Second, was a tightness around his hands, all the way up his forearms. Flexing his hands sent a stabbing pain through them. Injured, but from what?

There came a cough. He wasn’t alone, so who...?

His eyes fluttered open, taking in the blurry orange-yellow light around him. He groped around, searching for his glasses. Something hard touched his hand, and his fingers laced around it.

Setting the glasses over his eyes, he immediately knew something was off. While he could see slightly better, everything looked like he was peering through a fun house mirror. It was nauseating.

Fear clenched his heart at the thought of something having happened to his eyesight. His right hand jerked, colliding with something causing a small clink. He turned, faintly making out his cross and another pair of glasses--unmistakably his.

There were two pairs of glasses. Did the extra pair belong to the other person in the room with him? They hadn’t said anything about it, though. Quickly, he switched them out, breathing a sigh of relief as the nausea eased.

From his left, came a soft groan. He moved his head into that direction and sprang up.

Laying on her side, facing him, was Kimura. Her breathing, while steady, was hindered. Again, she coughed, flushed face contorting with discomfort. She didn’t seem to awaken, though.

He watched her, wondering what they were doing in this strange place together. She shifted again, right arm stretching out from under the blanket. His eyes widened, seeing the bandage wrapped around it.

Everything came rushing back to him. The Hollow bait slipping into his uniform pocket. Shock at Tamiko’s reappearance at school. Ichigo carelessly following him around. Bait snapping between his fingers and scattering to the wind. Taking out Hollows. Their numbers growing until he had no choice but to work with a Soul Reaper. A ridiculously large Hollow appearing.

Then, Ichigo lost control of his reiryoku. What an amateur. Uryu had no choice but to save him in the same manner that he had Tamiko. It would have been all his fault if...

Tamiko’s coughing broke through his thoughts. He slowly reached out towards her. Her eyelids fluttered, and he recoiled, pushing up his glasses instead.

It was his fault that she was wounded. If he hadn’t gone through with the challenge, she would be fine. No, it was his duty as a Quincy to protect her, and he failed. While he chastised Ichigo for not noticing the plight of his friends, he had done the same by not ensuring Tamiko’s safety.

“Kimura, I...” Uryu whispered, but the words lodged within his throat. Once more, he slowly reached out until he touched her warm forehead. “You’re still sick.”

How could she forgive him? How could she have shown him so much kindness when all he had done was shown her disdain? Greeting him every morning. Making him a present. Tending to his wound. Stopping by the convenience store every night he worked. And what did he do in return? Called her his enemy because of her association with Ichigo.

For all intents and purposes, she should despise him. Instead, she merely scolded him like a little boy who shattered a vase. What he has done deserved a much harsher punishment.

But, there she was, sleeping right beside him. She hadn’t left his side. Even after months of observing and being within her company, Tamiko Kimura baffled him. He wondered if he would ever understand her.

Again, the sounds of her sickness snapped him away from his thoughts. She grimaced, eyes fluttering to open halfway. When she gazed up at him, a pang went through his heart. Her bright eyes were gone, replaced by dull, glassy imitations.

“Glasses...” she squeaked, looking around and propping herself on her uninjured arm.

“Oh.” He scrambled around until he found the pair he had mistakenly put on. Carefully, he slipped them over her eyes. How could he have mistaken them for his? They were circular with caramel brown frames. Averting his gaze, he mumbled, “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Just around the house.” She pushed herself up, emitting a soft cry.

He whirled around. “Don’t move!” She froze in response to his sudden outburst. “I mean... you’re wounded. You should stay down.”

She nodded and returned her head to the pillow. Her eyes moved, scanning him before settling on his arms. She pointed at them. “Then what about you? You’re wounded too. Both arms, hands, and shoulders are all cut up.”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing up his glasses. “These injuries are nothing. And I’m not the one sick with a cold besides. You should go back to sleep.”

There wasn’t a response, nor did she seem to comply. Instead, she continued to stare at him. Why? Did he have something on his face? As he ran his fingers over it, a wan smile appeared on hers.

“You’re acting normal.” The smile was replaced with a perplexed frown. “But I can’t tell if that’s a good thing, given everything that’s happened. And what today is.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at her snorting back some mucus. “What about today?”

“You can’t be serious. It’s still July 18th, isn’t it?”

July 18th? Uryu lowered his hand, letting it fall into his lap. He studied her, taking in the sadder look. “How do you know that this day has any significance?”

“From your family’s tombstone. And it was Ichigo who told me about your grandfather.”

Of course he did. Uryu closed his eyes, inwardly cursing Kurosaki and his inability to keep a secret. Although, he supposed he did owe her the truth after everything he’s put her through.

“How much did Kurosaki tell you?” he asked.

“Enough for me to know that he was killed by a bunch of Hollows and that Soul Reapers showed up too late to help him.”

So she pretty much knew the whole story already. Uryu bowed his head. “Yes, that’s what happened. Soul Reapers had been monitoring him as one of the last Quincies, but none came to his aid. They showed up two hours too late. For a full hour, his body laid there.”

“And that’s why you hate Soul Reapers.” Her voice broke.

“I already despised them before. Their blatant disregard for his life only fueled the flames.”

No reply. He kept his head bowed, silently apologizing yet again for what he has done. All of the rage and cockiness led them to this point. How could he consider himself better than a Soul Reaper when he blatantly disregarded so many more lives?

Sobs broke through the silence. He looked up to see tears and mucus pouring onto the pillow. Her eyes clenched shut.

He leaned over her, desperately glancing around for a tissue or handkerchief. “Kimura. Please... don’t cry.”

‘Not for me,’ he thought.

“You could have...” She coughed, putting a hand over her chest. “...just said something! Told the truth from the beginning. Either to Ichigo or to me. We’re not your enemies, Uryu!”

Her words brought his head down even further. Of course she spoke the truth, he realized that now. He opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of rushing feet held his tongue.

The door slid open, revealing a strange man in a bucket hat and green haori. Water sloshed in the glass he carried as he dropped down beside her. In a soothing voice, he said, “Now, now, Tamiko. You’re going to flood us out if you keep up. Not to mention reopening that wound for a second time.”

A hiccup and sniffle answered him. “Pretty sure I’d dry myself out before that happened,” she whispered.

“Why I brought some water!~” the man sang, setting the glass down and pulling a handkerchief free. He held it over her nose. “Come on, blow. That a girl.~”

Uryu cleared his throat and turned away from them. He studied the bandages on his hands, feeling more like an intruder than a patient. Was this weird man responsible for his injuries being treated? How much did Kimura have to beg him to do so?

“I’m not a little kid, Urahara,” she whined, and he glanced back to watch the man--Urahara--clean off her face and glasses.

So that that was his name. Kurosaki had called him “Hat and Clogs” when he showed up to help them with the Hollows. Could he have been the man to tell Kimura about the Quincy extermination? What more did he know? Uryu narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, yes,” Urahara said mockingly. A thermometer was pulled out of his sleeve. “You’re a grown woman. Now, open up big and wide for the thermometer!~”

Kimura glanced at Uryu with a mortified expression, but a grin spread across her face. When she looked back at Urahara, she let out an exaggerated “Ahhh,” and the device slid in.

Uryu couldn’t make heads or tails of the scene unfolding in front of him, and trying to do so only sent a pounding through his head. The only clear thing was that she trusted this strange man, considering she allowed him to pat her head like that.

Along with the beeping of the thermometer, she inhaled sharply and flinched. “Well? What’s the diagnosis? Am I going to live?”

Urahara’s hand went over his mouth, eyes grim. “Says here... you only have 30 seconds until your demise.”

Her eyes widened. She reached out towards Uryu, mumbling, “If that’s the case, then Uryu...”

Did she just...? Before he could react to the use of his given name, a choked, gurgling noise left her mouth. Her hand hit the floor, eyes closing. He jerked towards her, wondering if she hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse after all. Then her tongue lolled out of her mouth, the grin reappearing.

“Oh, poor Tamiko!” Urahara wailed, taking hold of her hand and pressed it to his forehead. “So young!”

“Will you two knock it off!?” Uryu snapped, eyebrow twitching.

A pair of blank looks answered him, Kimura opening her eyes and craning her neck. Urahara kept a hold on her hand, but he lowered it to his lap.

Uryu continued, “That isn’t something to be joking around about! You’re seriously wounded, Kimura, and should be resting. And you!” He glared at Urahara, who pointed at himself and raised an eyebrow. “Should not be encouraging a girl in her condition to behave in such a manner!”

“’In such a manner?’” Urahara waved the thermometer around, shaking his head. “It’s not like I’m enticing her to do something dirty.”

“That isn’t what I was insinuating at all! I was only saying...”

He trailed off as Tamiko began to howl with laughter. It came to a quick end with her arms pressing on her stomach. “Oww... it hurts to laugh.”

“And that just proves my point,” Uryu said, pointing at her. “She’s too ill for such behavior, and she doesn’t need you enabling it!”

“Now, now. There’s no need to be so dramatic.” Urahara cleaned the thermometer and stowed it back into his sleeve.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Tamiko will be just fine!~” He pulled out a fan and snapped it open, appearing not to have heard the remark. “Her temperature is down to 37.5, and all of her injuries are mere flesh wounds. A day or two of rest should be sufficient enough to heal them.”

Uryu let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He looked back at Kimura, who smiled weakly and reached out towards him again. Hesitant, he let her place her hand into the palm of his. It was so small. Flinching, he laced his fingers around it.

“What about you?” she asked him. “How are you feeling?”

“Again, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“But your arms were torn apart.” Her voice broke and hand shifted to hold his. “You bled so much.”

He opened his mouth to assure her again, but the sound of Urahara clearing his throat stopped him short. His gaze lifted to meet an uncharacteristically serious expression on the man’s face.

“She’s right,” he said. “Your injuries are nothing to sneeze at, but we got everything all patched up. Take it easy for a day or two, and they should heal with no problems.”

They didn’t have to do that. Uryu returned to staring at Kimura’s hand clasping his. Her reiatsu filtered the room, overpowering the musty scent with vanilla and cinnamon. It was so warm, reminding him of sweets baking in an oven.

“And Sango?” Her question broke through his thoughts. “Has she woken up?”

“Sure has!” Urahara chirped. “She’s back at your apartment with the memory that the oven exploded. Probably beginning to worry about where you are, in fact.”

Kimura sat up with a whimper. “Then I need to get home. I don’t want her to worry herself sick.”

“If you’re up to it, I can escort you--”

“I’ll take her home,” Uryu interjected, slipping his cross over the bandages. He wobbled up to his feet. “Thank you for seeing to my wounds and for your... hospitality. Kimura, let me grab our things, and we can be on our way.”

A moment later, he had both his bag and hers over one shoulder. Meanwhile, Tamiko rode on his back, needing to stay off her wounded leg. Her cheek pressed against his other shoulder. Judging by how she was breathing, she had dozed off.

‘It’s my fault that she’s like this,’ he reminded himself, gently shifting her weight. ‘Even her cold could be pinned on me. Then I failed to protect her. I swear, on my honor as a Quincy, I won’t let that happen again.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! After a month of focusing on editing, I have all of the old chapters updated. Starting on August 15th, 2020, I will be updating regularly with new chapters!


	11. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His actions from the day before continue to torment Uryu as he navigates through the reality that people are actually looking out for him. Meanwhile, something foreboding looms over Karakura, two Soul Reapers seeking something or someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet and Rose_thejedi_lothcat.
> 
> It has been nearly two whole months, but I am officially back to regular updates! Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I should be able to update this story every Saturday until it's conclusion. Fingers crossed, at least!

The silence of dusk. Overhead, streetlights flickered to life. The quiet peace contrasted the events of the day. Uryu strode, careful not to jostle his passenger. Kimura breathed softly. A faint whistling escaped her nose, evident of congestion.

Regret weighed far heavier on his shoulders than her weight ever could. How could he hope to make up for what he had done? To unleash Hollows like that...

He may have received Kimura’s forgiveness, but did he deserve it?

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his inner torment being disturbed by the sound of coughing. He was grateful for the distraction. Uncanny how she always knew when to grab his attention. Her sniffling and groaning came next, signs of her returning to consciousness.

“How are you feeling? If you need, we can stop and have a rest.” He glanced back, her hair brushing against his glasses.

“I’m not the one--” A sneeze cut her off. Thankfully, it was directed away from his face. “...that’s lugging two bags and a 55 kilogram girl. If anyone needs to rest, it’s you.”

He faced forward. “There’s no way you weigh that much. You’re about 10 kilograms off. Anyway, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Then who will?”

His stroll halted. He had to admit, she made an excellent point. When was the last time he had anyone looking out for him? Not since his sensei had been killed.

No, he did not deserve it.

“Uryu?”

The walk resumed. “Rest. You still have a fever.”

Silence engulfed them once more, only broken by her clear discomfort. That wound to her stomach must be throbbing. He would have hasten his steps to get her home sooner, but he didn’t want to add to her pain.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “about what happened to your grandfather.”

“Don’t dwell on it.”

“Was he the one who taught you your Quincy techniques?”

Her curiosity caused him to shake his head and let out a breath. She should be more concerned about herself.

“He didn’t?” Confusion heavy in her voice.

“Yes, he did,” he hastily said. “My grandfather--sensei--taught me what it takes to be a Quincy. He taught me everything.”

In a sleepy voice, she mumbled, “That’s cool. That you had a grandfather to teach you. Wish I had one.”

“You don’t have a grandfather?” No answer. “Kimura?”

The corners of his mouth turned up yet again at the sound of her breathing becoming deep once more. Good. She needed the rest.

Down the block, a young woman rounded the corner. She paused and frantically looked up and down the street, braid swinging. Her eyes settled on Uryu, and he realized who she was.

Daiichi rushed over to them, shouting, “Ishida! Tamiko! I’ve been out of my mind with...” Her eyes darted between his face and Kimura’s. They moved to the arm dangling off his shoulder, and she gasped, hand covering her mouth. “She’s injured? What happened?”

“It was...” His voice faltered, watching her raise her hand to feel Kimura’s forehead. A bandage of her own was wrapped tightly around it--a wound she must have sustained during the Hollow attack.

“A traffic accident,” Kimura whispered, eyelids fluttering. “Happened right after school.”

Daiichi’s mouth formed a round circle. “Another one? People in this town should take some driving lessons.”

“What about you? Your arm...”

“Decided to bake a cake to celebrate you surviving finals. Wouldn’t you know the blasted thing up and exploded on me? I do hope that landlord of yours agrees to replace it.” While she rambled, her hand moved away from Kimura’s forehead to flap around.

A weak chuckle shook through Kimura. “Sounds like you had a blast.”

The frustrated expression transformed into a soft smile. “To say the least,” she said. Her gaze floated back over to Uryu. “Oh! My, don’t you look awfully pale, Ishida. And you’re sweating. Do you have a fever as well?”

He stepped away from her reach. “Never mind. Let’s get Kimura home.”

“Yes! We should.” She turned and led the way to the apartment.

Kimura was set up in Daiichi’s bedroom, which Uryu noted as actually being a storage room. The cramped space housed only a bed, nightstand, wardrobe, and bookshelf.

Once she was comfortable, he turned to leave. Instead, he came face to face with Daiichi, hands on her hips. A stern look replaced her usual sparkle. Had he done something to earn her ire?

Well, he has, but she shouldn’t have any memory of the attack. Or any knowledge that it was his doing.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, breaking his thoughts. “To go rest in the living room, I would hope.”

“Work.”

“Oh, no you don’t. There’s no way you’re going to go stand in a convenience store all night. You’re going to stay and rest, young man.”

Young man? Uryu scowled at her. How could she expect him to stay and be another patient for her to care for? She’d already have her hands full with Kimura. That’s not even mentioning her own injury. He couldn’t stay and burden them further.

He clenched his fists, gritting against the pain that flared. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, Kimura whimpered. He made the mistake of looking at her--at the worry wrinkling her brow.

“Please stay, Uryu. Mochi’d cover for you, I’m sure. You need to rest. Anyway, that deeper gash has reopened.” She pointed at his left arm where spots of blood were forming on the bandages.

His glasses were pushed back into place. “It’s okay, Kimura. These injuries are nothing in comparison to yours.”

“That’s not what Urahara said.”

Just as he was getting ready to argue further, a hand brushed against his forehead. He blinked back at Daiichi, who stood on her toes in order to reach him properly.

“Well, you’re not okay. Feels like you may have a slight fever. I’ll go make you a bed on the couch.” Her hand fell away, and she disappeared into the living room.

“You have a fever?” Kimura asked, propping herself on an elbow out of the corner of his eye. “Have you caught my cold?”

“I have not caught your cold!” He whirled around to face her, seeing her flinch. His muscles relaxed. In a softer tone, he said, “It’s just heat exhaustion. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Her eyes met his, and he knew she wasn’t fooled, but there was no way he was about to admit to how he actually felt. The day was beginning to wear on him. A pulsating pain tore through his arms and shoulders, and it felt like his head was beginning to join in. No, he didn’t want to burden them, but the thought of not dealing with Mochi was tempting.

Uryu sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll stay, but only for tonight.”

“Great, we’ll have a slumber party,” she said, hoarse voice far too cheery. “An ‘I survived the Hollow Apocalypse’ slumber party.”

He turned away from her cheeky grin. “Don’t make it sound like it was some kind of natural disaster.”

“Ishida!” Daiichi called from the living room. “Your bed is all ready for you. Come on and lie down, and I’ll get that fever checked.”

Another sigh blew past his lips. He looked over his shoulder at Kimura, who had a tired grin on her face. With a nod to her, he went to join Daiichi.

The couch was all made up with pillows and blankets. A first aid kit and thermometer sat on the coffee table. He glared at it all before sitting down. Resigning himself to her care, he allowed her to hover over him with the thermometer.

She clicked her tongue over his 37 degree temperature, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Such a mild fever was no cause for alarm. The device was set aside and the first aid kit opened. “Alright, Ishida, off with it.”

“Off with what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your shirt.”

“W-what!?”

A gentle smiled appeared on her face. “I need you to take off your shirt, so I can see the wounds on your shoulders. Have to make sure they haven’t reopened as well.”

“No way I’m doing that!” He waved his hands, leaning away from her. “Look. They’re fine. I’d know if they’ve reopened, so there’s no need for you to...”

There came a weak laugh from the other room. “Aww, don’t be a baby, Uryu!” Kimura exclaimed. “It’s not like she hasn’t seen a half naked body before. She’s a registered nurse!”

His face flushed up. “Yeah, who isn’t much older than me! And why are you listening in? You’re supposed to be asleep!”

Her laughter transformed into a coughing fit.

Daiichi glowered at him. “Well? Are you going to take off your shirt or do I have to rip it off you?”

Uryu swore his fever shot up a degree at her choice of words. “Threatening to do that doesn’t make it any better! Shouldn’t you see to Kimura first? If she keeps coughing like that, her wound’s going open again.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Daiichi disappeared into her bedroom. “But when I get back, that shirt better be gone!”

The bridge of his nose was pressed. ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ he wondered. ‘I should leave, while she’s busy with Kimura...’

A loud sneeze reached his ears. No, if he left like this, it would only make her feel worse. Best to give into Daiichi’s wishes for the time being.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uryu laid stiff, unable to fall asleep. Not only was he sleeping on the couch of a classmate--a female classmate, no less--but the events of the day kept haunting him.

‘My fault,’ his brain cried every time he closed his eyes. ‘Why did I go through with it? I knew the risk, that everyone would be in danger, but...’

A cough interrupted his train of thought. He focused on Kimura’s reiatsu instead. There was something calming about its warmth and scent. If only it wasn’t so weak.

Strange. He had never smelled a person’s reiatsu before. They always presented as auras or a magnetic attraction or repulsion. But with Kimura, vanilla and cinnamon would tickle his nose before she even appeared.

The first time he had noticed it was that day in Home Handicrafts, where she had caught him staring. He watched her every move, trying to figure out how he could smell her from across the room. Then she pricked herself, motivating him to talk to a classmate for the first time since he didn’t know when.

Light registered, and he opened his eyes to a sunlit room. Was it morning already? Did he fall asleep thinking about Kimura? He shook the question from his head, cheeks flushing from it.

His glasses were slipped on, and he checked his watch. It was after nine in the morning, first period having begun a few minutes ago. Disbelief consumed him. He had never been late to school before. He moved to stand, but his feet landed on something warm and soft. An incomprehensible murmur emitted from it, and he recoiled.

On a futon, in front of the couch, was Daiichi. She was fast asleep, his stepping on her not disturbing her. How long has she been there? He recalled seeing her continue to hover over him, putting a cool cloth to his head. She must have given in to exhaustion.

Quiet as a mouse, he stepped over her and gathered his things. With a soft tread, he peeked through the bedroom door.

Kimura was curled on her side, facing him. A fist rested beside on the pillow, her eyes closed and breathing steady. The door creaked at his touch, but she didn’t stir.

He should go instead of risking waking her. Even though he said he’d only stay for the night, he had the feeling she would argue against his leaving if she were to awaken.

Except he couldn’t go without knowing her physical condition. Her cheeks were bright red, evidence that she still had a fever. He laid his hand on her forehead and felt the heat radiating through his bandages.

Careful not to get them too wet, he refreshed the washcloth and returned it to her forehead. It dripped slightly, but it was better than nothing. Her eyelids fluttered, and she stretched, but she stayed asleep.

His heart sank. Did he want her to wake up and protest his leaving? No, it was better to go and not cause her any further distress.

So after scrawling out a note, he silently wished her well and headed home to prepare for school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uryu shot down the invitation the moment the words left Kurosaki’s mouth. However, when he mentioned that Asano would be paying, the offer became more enticing. Hungry, having skipped breakfast, so how could he turn down the offer of free food?

He regretted the decision the moment he got to the roof. Asano’s pointless chatter droned on while Uryu asked, “Why did you invite me, Kurosaki? Is it because of my injuries? If so, I don’t need your pity.”

“I invited you because I felt like it,” Kurosaki said. “You should be glad that someone asked you to eat with them. You should thank me.”

“Why should I? I like eating by myself.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

Kurosaki brought his juice box to his lips. “Just so happens that I like eating by myself as well. If it bothers you so much, then turn around.”

Things grew quiet between them once more. Uryu swallowed and stared at his food. It was true that no one has ever invited him to lunch before. Not even Kimura, who he would have expected such an offer from.

‘Perhaps if she hadn’t gotten sick,’ he thought, taking yet another bite. The food was dry and tasteless. ‘She could’ve...’

As if reading his mind, Kurosaki asked, “How is Tamiko?”

Sputtering, bread and lunch meat snagged in his throat. Uryu coughed and swallowed against it. Something was thrusted into his face; he blinked, an unopened juice box coming into focus.

“Here, have a drink,” Kurosaki said. “It’ll help.”

With a glare, he snatched it and jabbed the straw in. The drink was unbearably sweet, but it did flush the food down. He cleared his throat.

“Don’t expect any thanks. It was your fault that I choked in the first place.” He set the box down. “What makes you think I know how Kimura is doing?”

“Last I saw her, she insisted on staying with you until you woke up. She didn’t make it to school today, and you’re the last person to have seen her. So, how is she?”

Uryu returned his glasses to their proper place. “Home. She has someone caring for her now.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“What do you want me to say then?” he asked, picking his sandwich back up. “That she’s still running a fever? And now wounded on top of it? The girl is sick, Kurosaki! How do you expect her to be doing?”

Kurosaki opened his mouth to retort, but Asano slid in between them. “Hey! What are you two talking about over here? Did you purposely distract me so you could have a private conversation about a girl? So who is it?”

“None of your business, dumb ass,” Kurosaki said with a scowl.

“It totally is!” Asano pointed at him. “Come on! It’s perfectly natural for guys to discuss the girls they have the hots for! Was it Inoue? She’s definitely a hottie!”

Uryu blocked out the degrading tirade about their female classmates--Asano’s attempt to guess who they had been talking about. He glared at his backside, tugging off another bite to keep himself from knocking the idiot flat.

Asano looked up in thought. “So if it wasn’t Inoue, Kunieda or Kuchiki, then...? Oh! Could it be Kimura? You know, she is rather cute. Especially that laugh of hers!”

The sandwich turned to mush in his fist, a low growl emitting from deep within his throat. Uryu rose, no longer able to resist the urge of knocking Asano over the head.

“Keigo, you may want to run,” Kurosaki said.

“Huh? Why?” He pointed in response to Asano’s question, prompting him to glance behind him. “Gah!” Quick as lightning, he ducked behind Kurosaki.

“You!” Uryu took a step towards them, pointing at Asano. “How dare you talk about our classmates like that! They aren’t just some pieces of meat for you to--”

Another step forward, and Kojima jumped between them, holding his hands up. Large arms wrapped around Uryu, pulling him back.

“Kojima! S-Sado!? Let me go!”

“Calm down,” Sado said, not budging when Uryu yanked and squirmed against his hold. The kicks to his legs did nothing to help.

“You really shouldn’t take what Keigo says seriously,” Kojima said. “He may talk like a jerk, but he’s harmless.”

Kurosaki sighed, casting a glare over his shoulder. “Exactly. He’s just an idiot who doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. Just ignore him.”

“Man, you guys are cruel. Way to defend me,” Asano whined, dropping his head.

His nostrils flared with deep breaths, Uryu feeling his racing heart beginning to slow. What had made him so furious? It wasn’t like he had said anything demeaning about Kimura. He shook his head, fist loosening on the remains of his lunch. “It’s fine. You can let go of me now, Sado.”

The grunt responded him, and Sado pulled his arms away.

A quick adjustment of tie and glasses. Uryu bent down and picked up the juice box. “Never invite me to lunch again,” he said, stalking off and ignoring Kurosaki’s huffs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, honestly!” a voice yelled.

Tamiko’s eyes popped open. She groaned in response to the pain radiating through her. The cough didn’t help any, nor did sitting up and slipping on her glasses, but she needed to find out what all the yelling was about.

She staggered out of the bedroom to find Sango standing in the middle of the living room, hands on hips. A glower bore down on the neatly made bedding on the couch.

“Foolish young man, up and leaving like this,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t even get to check his temperature again. Or change his bandages. I swear, if those wounds reopen or he passes out...”

Uryu must have taken off. Tamiko reached out for his reiatsu and found it within the school. It was near Ichigo’s, probably in the classroom. She groaned, a sharp pain surging through her abdomen.

Sango jumped a few inches into the air and whirled around. Her hand went over her heart. “Tamiko. I thought you were still asleep. How are you feeling? Still feverish?”

“A little. Everything’s pretty sore.”

Her brows remained creased in frustration, but Sango smiled softly. “We’ll get you taken care of with some medicine and food. Looks like we both slept through breakfast and lunch today. You must be starved!”

“Not really...”

There was something foreboding in the air, but Tamiko couldn’t quite put her finger on what it could be. It was similar to how everything felt before the Hollows started appearing. As if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Dear, I think you should lie back down,” Sango said, steering her back towards the bedroom. “I’ll get you a little something to eat, and then you can sleep the whole day away if you want to!”

Tamiko nodded, allowing herself to be led back to the bed. When she was sitting down, her eyes drifted to the nightstand. There was a small slip of notebook paper with her surname on it. Was that Uryu’s handwriting? She picked it up and discovered a message inside.

‘Do not worry. I woke up feeling much better, so I headed to school. Thank you.’ And it was signed with Uryu’s name. Well that didn’t tell her anything new. She hoped he was telling the truth about feeling better, at least.

The afternoon dragged on, the sense of dread only growing stronger with each passing hour. Tamiko couldn’t focus on anything, including food. She tore the sandwich Sango had bought her into little pieces, barely taking a bite.

An attempt was made to play a simple RPG on her Gameboy Advance. Tamiko tried to concentrate on the familiar beeps and creature noises, but even that couldn’t ease her mind.

A knock on the door broke the silence, Orihime’s cheerful reiatsu tugging at her perception. Sango’s voice rang out, “Oh, Inoue! Good afternoon. Here, I’ll take her homework. I’m afraid she’s not feeling we--”

“It’s okay! I’m up for a visitor.” Tamiko called, turning off and setting the game aside.

Orihime stuck her head into the room. “But I don’t want to disturb you if you aren’t feeling well.”

“You aren’t disturbing me at all.” She gave her a wan smile. “Please, come on in. How was school today? Did I miss anything interesting?”

“Sure did!” Orihime’s entire face brightened up. She walked into the room and handed over the small bundle of papers.

“Then sit down and tell me all about it. I want to hear everything.”

So Orihime sat down and began to recount the events of the day. Apparently she walked with Rukia to school that morning, having gotten up much earlier than normal.

“And then Ishida walked in completely late to class,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Said he fell down the stairs, but that’s not what happened at all.”

The breath caught in her throat. Tamiko leaned forward, flinching at the twinge of pain. “What do you think happened?”

Surely Orihime couldn’t remember the Hollow attack from the day before. Urahara must have wiped her memory, right?

“I think Ishida got those injuries from a giant robot that shoots laser beams. He was fighting it to keep the town safe, because he’s secretly an undercover agent that works for the government. So that’s why he had to lie about his wounds, to keep the attack under wraps!”

Well, she was right about a couple of things. But it appeared that she had no clue about what actually happened.

“Wasn’t he a superhero before?” Tamiko asked, covering a chuckle.

“Superheroes can be undercover agents too.”

Good point.

Orihime continued by telling her that Ichigo invited Uryu to lunch. That was an interesting development, but not a big surprise. It was clear that he felt responsible for Uryu’s injuries.

‘At least he’s noticing him now,’ Tamiko thought, smiling at the image of the two struggling through lunch together. ‘That’s good. Maybe Uryu won’t be so lonely at school now.’

“Meanwhile, the rest of us girls invited Kuchiki to lunch,” Orihime said, snapping her away from her thoughts.

“You did?”

“We finally managed to corner her, and she couldn’t turn us down. It was great! Hopefully you can make it to school tomorrow, so we can all eat together. I plan on bringing some of my favorite desserts.”

Right. Orihime had been trying to get Rukia to eat lunch with them for the last couple of weeks, but she never seemed to catch her before she disappeared with Ichigo.

Tamiko frowned at her hands. She had failed to help in the initiative. Her mother’s wouldn’t leave her head, about Rukia holding harmful secrets. No matter how many times she shot them down, they came back the moment she saw Rukia, making her hesitant to approach her.

‘I guess there’s a lot that I don’t know about her,’ she realized. ‘I should try to get to know her better.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The small meal of fish, rice, and pickled vegetables looked unappetizing. Orihime’s visit earlier had been a nice distraction, but Tamiko couldn’t dodge the shadows looming over. What could it be? It wasn’t a Hollow. There hasn’t been a single one all day.

Something jumped on the bed, sending the dishes to clatter. She jumped back, the clump of rice falling from her chopsticks. A black shadow lurched forward and caught the food before it could land on the tray.

Two black paws hit the tray’s surface, Tamiko coming face to face with whiskers and yellow eyes. She watched the cat’s tail flick back and forth. It licked its lips, looking down at the food between them.

“A cat? How did you get in here?” she asked. It glanced towards the slightly ajar door. “I mean into the... oh. The broken window in the kitchen.”

The cat meowed in answer before jabbing its paw at her chopsticks. She pulled them away, and it sat down on her lap, eyes going back to the food.

“Are you hungry? Would you like some fish?”

Once more, the tail flicked back and forth. A loud purr emitted from the cat’s throat, and Tamiko grabbed a bite and set it in front of the cat. It gobbled the fish up, and she let out a strained chuckle, a pang seizing her abdomen.

“Would you like some more?” she asked, and it answered by pushing the plate closer to her with its paw. “Do you want me to eat?”

It uttered another meow, looking her directly in the eye.

So for the rest of the meal, Tamiko took a bite and gave one to the feline. It ate everything she gave, including the vegetables, but it purred loudly over the bites of fish.

“Are you all done, Tamiko? Would you like mor--” Sango cut herself off, stepping into the room. The cat looked up and meowed at her, and she rushed over to pet it. “Aww, a kitty! Where did you come from, little guy?”

“I guess it must have jumped in through the window,” Tamiko said, watching the cat arch its back to Sango’s touch.

“Oh, flabbergast it. I knew I should have covered it with a blanket, but the kitchen needed airing out. I better get it covered soon. It’s supposed to rain tonight.”

They laughed as the cat swiped at the swinging braid. Sango left and returned with more fish and water. While it ate, Tamiko yawned and lay back down on her side. Drowsiness started to consume her.

When the plate was cleaned of every last morsel, the feline jumped back on the bed. It took the blanket into its mouth and brought it up to her chin.

“Smart cat.” Sango let out a titter. She cleaned up the empty dishes and left the room.

“You know, I always wanted a pet,” Tamiko remarked. The cat pressed its head against her chest, and she scratched it behind the ear. “Mother never cared for animals, so we just have the koi fish in the garden. Cats would wander in sometimes to catch mice. You remind me of one I saw once.”

It butted her hand in reply, and she giggled softly. One hand remained on the cat’s head while the other curled up on the pillow. Feeling of the warm, soft fur, her eyelids closed. She drifted off to the gentle sound of purring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When her eyes fluttered open, Tamiko shot up, trembling in a cold sweat. The room around her was dark, only lit by the small light filtering from the living room. There was no sign of her cat companion, the bed beside her cold and empty. It must have left hours ago.

But that was the least of her concern. Outside, two strong pressures hovered close by, about a couple of miles away. Who or what were they? They didn’t feel like Hollows, but there was something familiar about them.

Idly, Tamiko glanced at the clock. Nearing midnight. She slept nearly seven hours straight. No surprise there, considering how sick and injured she was. The sleep rubbed from her eyes, and she slipped on her glasses and stumbled into the living room.

On the couch, Sango was fast asleep. “Enjiri,” she mumbled, her hold on a pillow tightening.

Was she dreaming about someone? Tamiko drew in a sharp breath, hand covering her mouth. Had that been the name of her boyfriend? The one her father had killed? If so...

Tamiko swallowed hard, trying to get herself to take deep breaths, to calm the panic rising in her chest. ‘I’m not a Quincy. There’s no reason to believe I killed his soul, but didn’t Urahara say that it’s a Soul Reaper’s Zanpakutō that sends Hollows to the Soul Society?’

Soul Reapers. That’s who those pressures could belong to. Were they here to investigate the massive Hollow attack that took place the day before?

She needed to find out--to get away from Sango, so she dashed up the stairs. A change of clothes, hair pulled back, contacts in, and a broken staff stowed into her pocket. She limped out the door, not even glancing at Sango. The idea sent her heart to race again.

‘I’ll go to the convenience store,’ Tamiko thought, making her way down the street. ‘Maybe Uryu has some insight into what the Soul Reapers are doing. And if I did kill that soul.’

The closer she drew to the store, the more she noticed something was off. She couldn’t sense Uryu’s presence. Through the window, Mochi was slumped over the counter. He looked defeated, as if he had been drained of his life essence.

When she stepped inside, he perked up. A hopeful expression turned towards her, but it faded into a frown. His eyes popped out, discovering her bandaged arm and leg. “Kimura! What happened to you?”

“An accident. Didn’t Uryu tell you when he called last night?”

“No. He just said he wouldn’t make it in.” Mochi huffed, hands going to his hips. “Haven’t heard a word tonight.”

“He never showed up?”

His bottom lip jutted out. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Ishida since his shift ended on Tuesday,” he whined.

So Uryu attended school, but skipped out on work? Tamiko glanced behind her at the darkened street. The Soul Reapers’ presences were closer. Only a mile of street corners and buildings separated her from them. Uryu wouldn’t have gone after them, would he?

The realization sent her out the door, ignoring Mochi’s questioning cries. As fast as she could, she raced towards the imposing reiatsu. Her breath caught in her throat, sweat beading around her hairline. Pain tore through her leg and abdomen, but that didn’t matter. The only thing on her mind was reaching Uryu before he did something stupid.

At last, his reiatsu hit her senses, nose filling with the scent of rain. He came into view, holding a plastic bag and peering around a corner. Down the road were the two pressures, one of them having gotten considerably stronger within the last couple of minutes.

Tamiko stumbled her way into a halt behind him. Her hands went to her knees, and she gasped desperately to catch a breath. He jumped about a foot in the air before whirling around.

“Kimura!” he hissed, putting a finger to his lips and making a shushing noise. “Keep quiet. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” she whispered, straightening. She craned her neck to see around the corner.

He leaned into her line of vision, hand leaping to land on her forehead. Relief flooded his eyes briefly. “Just stay back here, where it’s safe.”

“What’s going on? That reiatsu belongs to Soul Reapers, doesn’t it?”

Anger flashed in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder. “Yes,” he said, voice thick with malice. “There are two of them. One has his sword drawn.”

“His Zanpakutō? Why?” She couldn’t sense any Hollows around, so that couldn’t be it. Again, she tried to see past him.

Uryu’s entire body grew tense, the reishi beginning to gather around his cross. His arm shot out to keep her from stepping around him. “Like I said, stay back. This is not something for you to involve yourself in, especially while injured.”

“Perhaps you should be taking your own advice.” She nodded to his bandaged hands. “Besides, if they find out you were the one who lured those Hollows, you’d be walking right into their hands.”

He shook his head. “They’ve already found what they were looking for,” he said, before darting forward. The bow materialized in his hand.

As he fired an arrow, she caught a glimpse of the scene taking place. A single streetlight cast aglow over three people, one of which was unmistakably Rukia. She stared in their direction, blood dripping down her cheek.

The arrow disappeared in the distance, its targets appearing to have dodged it. They were certainly dressed in shihakushos, but there were distinct differences. One had his crimson hair pulled back in a ponytail and a pair of googles rested on his forehead. Light glinted off his drawn sword, and Tamiko noted that it was significantly smaller than Ichigo’s. The Soul Reaper seemed frozen, mid attack.

Behind him, was an imposing figure. Long black hair flowed past his shoulders, white headpieces adorning it on the front and right sides. A haori covered his shihakusho, and a white scarf wrapped around his neck. He stood, still as a statue, exuding a calm and domineering presence.

Without so much as a backward glance to Tamiko, Uryu strolled towards the group. “Two armed men, attacking a defenseless young girl. It’s not a pretty sight.”

He was going after them to protect Rukia? Silently, Tamiko followed behind. She kept her reiatsu low and tried to stay out of sight.

“Who the hell are you, kid?” one of the Soul Reapers asked. Judging by the attitude in his tone, she could assume it belonged to the one with the crimson hair. “It’s clear you can see us.”

“A classmate.” Uryu nodded towards Rukia. “One who hates Soul Reapers.”

There came a low growl. “That isn’t a good enough answer. Now, tell me who the h--”

“Renji,” a deep, calm voice cut him off. “Have you failed to notice the other intruder?”

“Huh? Other intruder?” Renji peered over Uryu’s shoulder, and Tamiko gave him a sheepish look.

Uryu moved to conceal her. “Never mind her. Your fight is with me.”

“Feh. I could care less about some weakling like her.”

Rukia whirled to face them, eyes almost as big as her head. “What are you two doing here?” she asked, voice strained.

“I don’t know what Kimura’s excuse is, but I just happened to be passing by,” Uryu said, glancing back at Tamiko with a cold expression. He held up the plastic bag, pointing the sunflower graphic towards Rukia. “But if you want to know, I had an urge to go to Sunflower Seams, this thread shop I frequent. And I happened to come across your little party.”

What an obvious lie. Despite the circumstances, Tamiko let out a snort. “Except that Sunflower Seams is all the way on the other side of the district. Nowhere near this neighborhood.”

“Come on.” Uryu adjusted his glasses, looking directly at her. “Then how do you explain this bag full of needles and thread?”

“To give yourself an excuse for butting in!” She beamed at him, her grin only growing at his reddening face.

“That’s preposterous! I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“You would. No doubt.”

It happened so fast. Renji took a step forward, swinging his Zanpakutō towards them. Uryu swung around, arm moving to intercept the blade.

The bag hit the ground, its contents spilling out. A couple drops of blood followed it.

“Enough with the chatter,” Renji growled. “You didn’t answer my question. Who the hell are you, kid?”

A dark look crossed Uryu’s eyes. He lowered his bleeding arm. “I already answered. I’m a classmate who hates Soul Reapers.”

The tip of the blade was pointed directly at his head. “And I said that wasn’t good enough. Want to try again?”

Tamiko slid out from behind Uryu, hand slipping into the pocket with her broken staff. “How about telling us what you are doing here?” she asked, once again amazed that her voice sounded so calm.

“You dare make demands?” Renji asked, not moving his blade. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be doing so.”

Her fingers laced around the weapon. ‘Bide some time,’ she thought. ‘Surely Ichigo should have noticed that something is going on. He may be dense, but he usually knows when his friends are in danger.’

“It isn’t a demand. I’m simply curious as to why two Soul Reapers are here attacking one of their own.” She forced a smile, looking Renji directly in the eye.

He glanced back at the other Soul Reaper. The man had been oddly quiet throughout the whole exchange. His expression didn’t change, simply answering with a curt nod.

Renji faced her with a scowl. “Fine, I’ll satisfy your curiosity. You see, Rukia here did something that we Soul Reapers expressly forbid: she gave her powers to a human. So we’re goin’ take her back to the Soul Society and lock her up.” A grin spread across his face, turning to point the sword at Rukia. “Then, we’ll execute her. That enough information for ya?”

His words stopped her heart. Rukia broke the law. Was that her secret? One that would harm those who got too close? Because breaking such a law would not only harm herself but Ichigo as well.

Tamiko shook her head, feeling the reiryoku stir inside her. She took a deep breath, trying to will herself to calm, to give it more time.

“Except that she did that to protect herself and innocent humans from Hollows. Wasn’t that her duty?” She glared between the two Soul Reapers.

“Her duty was to die,” the other one said, “not break our laws.”

“Well it’s a stupid law!” Her retort garnered a flicker of anger. His reiatsu surged, filling the air with the aroma of cherry blossoms. She bit her tongue, moving one foot back. “There has to be some kind of except--”

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she looked up at Uryu’s cold expression. “It’s pointless to argue with Soul Reapers, Kimura. They’re too stuck in their ways to ever change.” His voice was thick with years of animosity.

“It’s our ‘ways’ that keep this world and the Soul Society in balance,” Renji spat, thrusting his Zanpakutō into Uryu’s face. “Now, tell me who you two are before I lose my patience.”

He stepped between Tamiko and the blade. “Uryu Ishida,” he said. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“’Pleasure?’ What’s with you all of a sudden?”

“I thought you would appreciate knowing the name of the one who killed you.” Uryu pushed up his glasses, brandishing a glare as sharp as a blade.

Through clenched teeth, Renji growled, “That settles it. I’m going to cut you in half!”

“No, Renji!” Rukia yelled. “Don’t do it!”

Heart threatening to leap out her chest, Tamiko unleashed her reiatsu. She yanked the broken staff out of her pocket, and it exploded with yellow reishi. Renji seemed taken aback, hesitating in attacking Uryu.

It was her one shot, and she took it. She skirted around Uryu, swinging the weapon at Renji. He recovered in time to block the attack, reishi meeting steel. The force sent tremors up her arms. His muscles flexed, and the staff ripped from her hands. It clattered behind her while she slammed into the ground.

A smirk spread across his face. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give ya that,” he said, the blade looming over her. “But you’re gonna need more than that to stand up to me!”

The arrow flew just inches above his head, trimming a little of his ponytail off. He glared at Uryu, his Zanpakutō turning back towards him.

A fresh arrow pointed at his head. “Didn’t I tell you that your fight was with me?” Uryu asked. “You shouldn’t worry about her.”

“Try tellin’ her that. She’s the one who attacked me.”

Tamiko shakily stood to her feet, keeping her eyes on Renji. Inwardly, she tracked Ichigo’s coming reiatsu. At last, he was on his way. They only needed to hold out a few more minutes.

“Yeah, before you could attack my friend. Oh! I just remembered!” She let the smile grow at Renji’s raised eyebrow. “I never introduced myself. It’s Tamiko Kimura, also a classmate. You are?”

He blinked at the hand she held out to him; he then went back into his smirk. “Heh. I’m Renji Abarai, and I’m about to hack your friend to pieces.”

“And your companion?” She moved her hand towards the other Soul Reaper, who remained as still as a tree.

“Companion?” Renji leaned his head back and roared with laughter.

“Kimura...” Rukia hissed into her ear. “You should be careful with what you say. He’s Renji’s superior officer. A captain.”

That explained the air of superiority hanging around him. Tamiko swallowed, a realization dawning on her. “Just how much stronger would he be in comparison to Ichigo?” she whispered.

“He’ll kill him.”

Her voice didn’t falter, saying it with absolute certainty. Tamiko instantly understood her mistake. Rukia’s secret hadn’t just been kept to keep the Soul Society from finding out. It was also to keep Ichigo out of it, to protect him. And it was all in vain.

Ichigo soared over the captain’s and Renji’s heads, landing between the two groups. Renji slid back and asked, “Now who the hell are you?”

He transitioned into a defensive stance at Ichigo drawing his Zanpakutō. “The one who’s going to kick your ass. Ichigo Kurosaki. Nice to meet ya.”

“A Soul Reaper? What squad are you from? And what’s with that overgrown Zanpakutō?”

“So you sayin’ I got a big one?” Ichigo asked, taking in his blade. “You know, I thought it looked kind of big next to Rukia’s. Up till now, I haven’t had anything else to compare it to.”

“What are you doing here, Ichigo?” Rukia asked in a harsh tone. “I thought I told you to stay low!”

Uryu put himself in front of Ichigo, keeping the arrow on Renji. “Yes, what are you doing here, Kurosaki? Everything is under control, so you may as well go back to bed.”

“Like hell I’m goin’ back to bed!” Ichigo bellowed, turning his glare on him. “Now step back and let me take over.”

“Oh, no. I’m not letting you take this opportunity from me. This is my chance to prove that Quincies are superior to Soul Reapers!”

“You’re still going on about that? I thought you would’ve...”

Renji changed his stance, and Tamiko exclaimed, “Hey, guys!”

Her warning came in the nick of time. Ichigo caught the swinging blade with his own, sparks flying. Uryu leaped back, the arrow still notched.

“Enough talking!” Renji said through gritted teeth. He glared daggers at Ichigo, both of their muscles bulging in their efforts to overpower the other. “So you’re the lowly human who stole Rukia’s power, eh, carrot top?”

“Great, even Soul Reapers make fun of my hair. What of it, pineapple head?”

“If you’re him, you’re dead!”

And just like that, the two were moving onto the street, swords and pressures clashing together. Neither one gave any notice to the three voices shouting for them to stop.

Uryu turned a smirk and his arrow towards the captain. “Fine, I’ll let Kurosaki have that one. What was it that Kuchiki called you? A captain? Good, you’d be a far better opponent.”

The air became thick with the cherry blossom-scented reiatsu once more. Uryu drew in a sharp breath, eyes widening. Sweat beaded on Tamiko’s forehead, and she staggered forward. If Rukia felt certain that the captain would kill Ichigo, then what did that mean for them?

Arrows flew through the air, and each one seemed to miss their target by mere inches. Uryu swore, darting around to try different angles. The odd thing was, the captain didn’t appear to move. Tamiko strained her eyes, but he stayed rooted to his place on the sidewalk.

When Uryu came up to him at point-blank range, the Soul Reaper placed his hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō. “I don’t think you understand just how weak you are.”

Just before he could draw the blade, Rukia yelled, “Don’t do it, Byakuya! They’re completely innocent in all of this. Please, don’t hurt them!”

He stayed his hand, giving Uryu the opportunity to fire and leap away. Once again, the attack appeared to miss the captain--Byakuya--completely, fading into the night. Wait. Rukia had called him by a given name? A superior officer?

“Very well,” he said and disappeared from sight.

“Damn it,” Uryu hissed, looking frantically around. “Where did he go?”

Tamiko turned this way and that, searching as well, but all she could see were Rukia and Uryu with her. On the street, Ichigo and Renji were trading blows. She drew a sharp breath, watching Renji’s blade connect with Ichigo’s shoulder. Blood spurted out, and he fell to his knees, sword clattering to the ground.

“Ichigo!” she cried in unison with Rukia. Behind Tamiko, Uryu groaned. There came a thud, and she whirled around to see him laying, frozen on the ground. “Uryu!”

Her entire body seized up, everything going completely numb. She fell, not feeling the impact of the ground. Nothing could be moved, not even a twitch, forcing her to stare at Uryu’s still body.

‘Paralysis,’ she thought, heart beating erratically. ‘Like what happened to Sango, but how did he do it? I didn’t see or hear him.’

“It has been done,” Byakuya said. “Their lives will be spared.”

“And Ichigo?” Rukia asked, a sliver of hope in her tiny voice.

“The boy will die. You’re aware of the consequences if we were to keep him alive.”

“Yes. I am.”

What were they talking about? Consequences? If they were talking about Ichigo abusing the power in some way, then they were severely misjudging him. He was an honorable person, even if he tried to deny it. Tamiko couldn’t breathe a word, her argument stuck within her throat.

In the background, Renji taunted Ichigo. It was answered with the whoosh of a blade, Ichigo having gotten up to resume the battle. Byakuya spoke, chastising his subordinate for being careless. He then revealed that they knew exactly who Ichigo was, having seen him from a surveillance report regarding the day before.

‘Surveillance?’ Tamiko wondered, questioning when exactly someone could have witnessed the event other than those who were there. ‘Menos Grande? That must be the giant Hollow he had fought.’

Renji’s howling laughter broke into her thoughts. “Are you kidding me!? Do you expect me to believe a guy like him gave a Menos a wound like that? Just look at that sword! Sure, it looks big, but it has no strength to it. Hey, what’s its name, anyway?”

“Name?” Ichigo asked. “You name your swords?”

“No, you idiot. You ask your Zanpakutō its name. Seriously? You don’t know the name of your sword? Then you never hope to defeat me. Roar, Zabimaru!”

His reiatsu sky rocketed, and Tamiko felt her consciousness beginning to slip from her fingers. The sound of clanking metal reached her ears, followed by Ichigo screaming.

Next thing she knew, his reiatsu increased to match Renji’s. It seemed the tide has turned, with Renji grunting in pain and Ichigo taunting him.

The scent of cherry blossoms tickled her nose, and again, her consciousness slipped away due to the heavy pressure weighing on her. When it returned, rain was pouring. She still couldn’t move or make a sound. Above her, the streetlight flickered out, plunging them into darkness.

Through the deluge, Rukia’s cold voice came, “Don’t you dare move. Don’t even take one step after me. If you do, I’ll never forgive you. So just stay put and live a few seconds longer, Ichigo.”

“He will be dead in less than an hour. Those wounds I inflicted on him are fatal. Besides that, I detached his saketsu and hakusui,” Byakuya said. “Renji, open the Senkaimon.”

“Yes, Captain Kuchiki!” Renji exclaimed. “Open!”

Kuchiki? Now it made sense why Rukia would call a commanding officer by his given name. They were related--siblings. That made what he had said about her duty being to die rather than break a law even worse. What kind of a brother would say something like that?

Pain flooded Tamiko’s senses, snapping away her thoughts. She groaned, body reflexively stretching out. A throbbing pulsed through her stomach and leg.

Somewhere nearby, Ichigo retched and coughed. Rukia had told him to lay low, not to fight. Then Tamiko purposely bid time for him to come in and save the day like always. Now he was dying.

And Rukia was gone. Gone back to the Soul Society to await her death. All because she gave her powers to Ichigo in order to save their lives.

It wasn’t fair, wasn’t right. Tamiko clenched her fists, not sure if it was the rain or tears rushing down her cheeks.


	12. We Won't Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talking cat trains Tamiko and her friends in preparation for a dangerous mission to the Soul Society. Only 10 days to become strong enough to save Rukia. Would it be enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.

“Kimura.” Uryu spoke, voice soft and subdued. Through her tears, Tamiko looked at him. He was soaked, bangs plastered to his forehead. His glasses were smudged, having recently been wiped off. “Are you okay? Can you move?”

“Yeah,” was her answer.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, and then, shakily stood to her feet. His hands jumped towards her, and blood dripped from the wound on his arm. She watched the drips fall beside the rain. He took that swing of Abarai’s blade to protect her.

Wait. What about Ichigo? Her head slowly turned towards the street, and a hand latched onto her shoulder. “Don’t look.”

But it was too late. Her eyes found Ichigo, found the blood pooling around him. The rain mixed with it, diluting it. An earthshaking shriek tore through her. It was one thing to hear what had been done to him, but to see it was completely different. The hand moved from her shoulder to grip her arm when she took a step towards him.

“There’s nothing you can do!” Uryu yelled, tone silencing her cries. “Nothing. So don’t torture yourself by trying.”

The truth in his words pierced through her heart. He was right. If there had been anything she could have done to help, the time for it had long passed. It was too late for Ichigo. Too late for Rukia.

Tamiko bowed her head and took in Ichigo’s body one last time before whirling around and burying her face into Uryu’s chest. He went stiff as a board. His hand made its way from her arm to her head, the cross like ice against the back of her neck.

No words were spoken. Only the drumming of the rain could be heard. Tamiko shivered against him, trying to wrap her mind around the grief soaking into her.

All she could think about were everyone closest to Ichigo. His family. Yuzu, Karin, and Dr. Kurosaki. Of how heartbroken they were going to be. His friends. Chad, Keigo, and Mizuiro. They’d be lost without him. Tatsuki, she’d be furious. Especially because Orihime would...

Her arms wrapped around Uryu. The sob muffled by his already soaked shirt. A breath escaped his lips, but that was all. His hand twitched, as if he was about to stroke her hair.

Wooden sandals splashed down the street. Tamiko peeked out to see Urahara, umbrella in hand, walking towards them. He stopped and held it over their heads. His eyes were serious.

“Now, now,” he said. “Ichigo will be just fine, Tamiko.”

“Y-you can save him?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

A grin lit up his face. “Why of course I can! But first...” He nodded to the bleeding wound on Uryu’s left arm.

It was concealed behind his back. “It’s fine. I can manage it myself. Take care of Kurosaki, because... he’s the only one who can save Kuchiki.”

Understanding darkened Urahara’s face. “Then here. I’ll leave you to it.” He handed over a first aid kit from his shihakusho, and left them to lean over Ichigo.

They watched him pull him over his shoulders. He disappeared in a burst of reiatsu. Tamiko blinked, head leaning to get a better look down the street, but it was empty. Did he use the same technique Byakuya Kuchiki had used? Must be something similar to how Uryu could move in the blink of an eye.

“Hold this,” Uryu said, pushing the first aid kit into her hands.

She turned and watched him pull a roll of bandages out. He wrapped it around the wound, blood disappearing as he layered the cloth. The roll was returned to the box, lid snapping shut over it. Their eyes met. His were heavy with exhaustion.

“Let’s get you home, Kimura.”

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment Tamiko was in front of the door, Uryu turned and walked back towards the street. She stared after him. “Aren’t you going to come inside and dry off? I’m sure we could find something of Machiko’s that would fit you.”

“No... thank you. I should get home. Take care of yourself, Kimura.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the night like Urahara had. She watched the rain splashing against the sidewalk before slipping inside.

Sango was still fast asleep on the couch--she hadn’t moved. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. Confronting Soul Reapers. The truth behind Rukia’s secret. Ichigo getting mortally wounded. And there had been nothing they could have done to prevent it. And that wasn’t even considering the Hollow attacks from the day before.

‘Oh. I completely forgot to ask Uryu about that,’ Tamiko thought, bowing her head. Water dripped off her bangs. ‘Maybe it’s something I’m better off not knowing for sure. Whether I really destroyed someone’s soul or not.’

She hugged herself, pressing her back against the closed door. After a while, she pushed off to do as Uryu had said and take care of herself.

Upstairs, she peeled away the sopping wet clothes. There was a surprise waiting for when she took off the bandages. All of her wounds were closed--they hadn’t even scabbed over. They were red and tender, throbbing with each movement and touch, but healing much faster than they should.

‘Like when Rukia had healed Ichigo’s shoulder with Kido. That wound simple closed and scarred. Someone must have used Kido on my wounds, but who?’

It couldn’t have been Rukia, her strength having depleted considerably since the last time she did. Tamiko doubted Uryu had such a technique, leading her to wonder if Quincies even had healing capabilities. And Ichigo definitely didn’t. Who was left?

Her hand automatically went to her forehead. Urahara or Tessai! Why hadn’t it occurred to her before that they could be Soul Reapers? Urahara did sell equipment from the Soul Society and had demonstrated similar to techniques to Kuchiki, freezing Rukia during the Menos attack and disappearing in a burst of reiatsu.

When those factors were accounted for, it did make sense for him to be a Soul Reaper. One that worked outside the laws of the Soul Society. And yet, neither Kuchiki or Abarai made any mention of him. What did that mean?

Tamiko shook her head, turning on the shower. ‘If he is a Soul Reaper, maybe that means he does have the ability to bring Ichigo back from the brink of death,’ she thought, stepping in. She closed her eyes, letting out a breath as the warm water chased the chill away.

The shower refreshed her, bringing her back down to earth. She put on fresh bandages to keep the tender injuries from being strained. Her mess was tidied up, the clothes she had been wearing tossed into the dryer. While they dried, she grabbed a bite in the kitchen.

Before she returned upstairs, she covered Sango with a blanket. It felt odd, not having her hovering over. Well, she’d certainly earned the rest.

It was two in the morning by the time Tamiko curled up beneath the covers. Physically, she felt fine, better than she had in a week. Mentally, she was drained. Images of the night appeared the moment she closed her eyes.

Her arms wrapped around the red panda. She willed herself to sleep, not wanting to drag her feet the next day. Tomorrow was the last day of term, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re going to school today?” Sango asked the moment Tamiko stepped into the kitchen wearing her uniform. “Are you sure you feel well enough? You seemed so out of it yesterday.”

“I’m sure. In fact, I feel better than ever. Had a good night’s sleep. Ooh! Rice Balls!” She sat down at the table, snagging a rice ball off a platter. With a grin, she took a big bite of it, rice raining onto the table.

Sango watched her devour it and grab another one. “My, that appetite of yours sure came back. Eat as much as you want, and I’ll get your lunch together.”

“Thank you!~”

Once Sango had her back on her, Tamiko took smaller bites. She didn’t feel any better than she had last night, but life goes on whether she wanted it to or not. The lesson her mother had tried to teach her last month has finally hit home.

And at school, that was even clearer. Everything seemed normal, students scattered around the classroom laughing with friends. To them, last night had been peaceful, free from incident. Tamiko envied them.

She paused at Uryu’s empty desk. He was gone, his reiatsu nowhere nearby. That was strange, for him to be late or even skip school altogether. Was he alright? He must be angry, having been defeated by Soul Reapers.

Her gaze lifted to the two empty desks in the middle of the classroom. Ichigo’s and Rukia’s. Had Urahara been able to save him? She couldn’t know for sure, unable to sense the reiatsu that always buzzed in her ears.

“Yo, Tamiko!” Tatsuki exclaimed, jerking Tamiko away from her thoughts. “Something wrong? You’ve been starin’ into space for nearly two minutes.”

Tamiko glanced at her, trying not to think about how she’d react if she found out that Ichigo could be dead. She strained a small smile. “Oh, I was just thinking about how strange it is for Uryu not to be here. He’s usually the first to arrive.”

“Yeah, that guy’s always at his desk reading or doin’ some kind of sewin’ thing. And yesterday, he walked in all covered in bandages. Claimed he fell down the stairs, but no one bought it.”

Of course no one did. Uryu was a terrible liar.

“Orihime told me about it,” she whispered. “I just hope he’s doing okay.”

“And what about yourself? You sound a lot better than you did the other day.”

“I feel loads better!” Her smile relaxed, turning towards Tatsuki. “I think my body finally beat that cold.”

Tatsuki returned the smile and said, “That’s great. Just in time for summer break too.”

Summer break. Was it really only a couple of days ago that Tamiko’s main concern was passing finals to avoid being dragged back home? That felt so long ago now.

Bright orange caught her eye. She felt her heart stop, watching every step Ichigo took to get to his desk. He dropped his school bag on the surface. Alive. Ichigo was alive. He lacked his loud reiatsu, but there he was, no bandages or marks of any kind to show that he nearly escaped death.

Without a word to Tatsuki, she strode over and snatched Ichigo’s wrist. She tugged him towards the door.

“Gah! Tamiko!” he yelped in surprise, but he didn’t try to break out of her grasp. He let her lead him all of the way down to the outside corridor. “Hey, what’s with you dragging me all the way down here like this?”

His face softened as she whirled around to face him with tears in her eyes. “What are you doing here? You almost died last night!”

“Calm down. I’m fine. See?” He flexed a muscle, but groaned. A hand went to his shoulder. “Okay, maybe not completely. But Mr. Hat-n-Clogs assured me that I’d be fully healed by this afternoon, so he made me come to school.”

She let out a breath, relieved to see that her assessment of Urahara had been true. He had been able to save Ichigo’s life after all. She wiped away the tears pouring down her cheeks.

“You can stop cryin’ over me now.” Ichigo looked away, rubbing the back of his head.

“I think I’m entitled to a few tears after last night.” Her voice broke, and she took a shuddering breath to calm herself.

He glanced back at her. “Are you okay? How’s that cold?”

“It’s fine. Gone,” she said, allowing the tiny smile to break out. “My injuries are all healed too, so we’ll both be okay.”

“That’s good, Tamiko,” he said, his mouth forming into an almost smile.

The bell rang, jolting them towards the door. A glance passed between them, the same realization coming to mind. They were going to be late. Both exclaiming their impending tardiness, they dashed back to the classroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One last assignment from Miss Ochi: to come back to school in one piece in September. The class erupted into cheers when she dismissed them. Summer was officially here, and all around, the chatter of travel plans dominated the room.

Tamiko smirked at the irony in her statement. ‘I barely made it through the first term in one piece,’ she thought, glancing up at Ichigo and watching him shake his head at Keigo. She looked towards Uryu’s empty desk. ‘They barely made it in one piece. And Rukia...’

She couldn’t finish the thought, not wanting her imagination to run wild about how Soul Reapers executed their prisoners. Instead, she busied herself with shoving her books into her backpack. The red panda keychain bounced around.

Keigo’s head leaned in between her and the bag. She leaped back and took in his pleading eyes. “Kimura! Please tell me you’re coming to the beach with me unlike these wet blankets?”

“Uhhh... huh?”

Her gaze flickered up to the people around them. Ichigo was rubbing his head, gaze turned away. Orihime watched with a soft look while Tatsuki had her arms folded. Mizuiro had his eyes on his phone, and Chad turned away, brows furrowed as if in deep thought. Everyone else stood stiffly, trying not to watch.

Oh. They turned Keigo down.

Tamiko looked back into his puppy dog eyes. She swore he let out a whine. “Sorry. Asano,” she whispered, hand moving to the back of her neck. “Maybe next year, okay?”

“Aww, man...” He hung his head and slumped off to crouch in a corner.

It would be fun to go off to the beach. To get away from Hollows, Soul Reapers, Quincies... everything, but she couldn’t. How could she, knowing that a friend was about to be put to death unfairly?

Once her backpack was slung over her shoulder, she was out the door. Not stopping for an instant, she skirted past people in the hallway. A block away from the school, something did stop her, Chad calling out, “Tamiko!”

“Chad?” She turned around as he ran up to her. The expression on his face hadn’t changed. “What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t been yourself.”

She took a step back, brow furrowing. “I haven’t?”

“You reverted back,” he said. “To before.”

The day returned to her. She hadn’t paid attention in class, her eyes glued to Rukia’s empty seat. At lunch, she stayed at her desk while everyone else went outside. Orihime had expressed concern, but didn’t question too much.

Just like how she behaved before Machiko’s death.

“Is it because of what happened to Kuchiki?” Chad asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“Ichigo said that she went back home,” he said, eyes softening with concern. “There’s more to it.”

Her hand went to her arm, gripping it. She stared him directly in the eye. “What do you know about Rukia?”

“She saved my life. From a Hollow.”

Gradually, as they walked, he told her the story of a talking cockatiel and the Hollow that attacked anyone who got near him. Tamiko got the sense that he wasn’t telling her everything that had happened, but she got the gist of it.

“And your memories weren’t changed?” she asked.

“Kuchiki had something that was supposed to, but I remember everything.”

“What else can you remember from the last couple of months?”

Again, his account was gradually detailed. Seemed he clearly remembered the incident at the abandoned hospital--he complimented her bravery, making her cheeks flare up--and the massive Hollow attack. He had protected one of Ichigo’s sisters then. Never had Tamiko heard him talk so much.

“At first, I couldn’t see it, but Ichigo’s sister could. Then something happened to my arm.” He raised his right arm, staring at it. “I’m not sure how it happened.”

Tamiko studied it as well, but there didn’t seem to be anything different about it. There was a change in his reiryoku, though. It’s become stronger, more defined. Something about it made her feel safe, like nothing could reach her as long as he was nearby. But she wasn’t sure if it could cause something strange to happen to a part of his body.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” she finally said, meeting his face with a small smile.

“Think so?”

“I know so.”

A grin flickered at her soft giggle, and he lowered his arm. They resumed walking, and she noticed that they didn’t seem to have a particular destination.

“So what happened? To Kuchiki?” he asked after a moment of silence.

She halted in her steps, tilting her head up to look him back in the eye. “Rukia’s in trouble,” she said, and she unleashed a stream of words, detailing the night before. He nodded along, drawing a sharp breath when she came to Ichigo’s fatal wounds. “I... don’t know what can be done, but I want to do something. Something to save Rukia.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” the voice of a young woman said.

Tamiko and Chad whirled around, but no one was there. The street and sidewalk were devoid of people. They looked back at each other, and she mirrored his baffled expression.

“And here I thought I was done hearing disembodied voices,” she remarked, fingers lacing into her hair.

He gave her an understanding grunt. “It had to come from somewhere.”

“How about this? Try looking up,” the voice came again, and they did as directed. Sitting on the streetlight above them, tail dangling, was a black cat. She sighed. “You two are going to need a lot of work before you can even think about going to the Soul Society.”

“A talking cat,” Chad whispered, voice thick with disbelief.

“A talking cat,” Tamiko echoed, voice filled with wonder. Now that wasn’t a common occurrence. Cats shouldn’t be capable of speech, and yet, her mouth moved and words came out. There was something else about the perched feline that bothered her, but what?

The cat jumped down, landing nimbly on her paws despite the incredible height. “Given all that you’ve seen recently, is it truly strange for a cat to be speaking?”

Chad nodded, hand going to his head. His eyes bulged, staring at her.

“So you can talk.” Tamiko crouched down in order to look at her face to face. “That’s really cool! How can you do it? Are you a human soul trapped inside of a cat’s body? Or a Kaizou Konpaku?”

“I suppose you could say that the former is close enough.” She sat down, tail curling around her.

“You know, I wondered what a cat would say if it could talk. This isn’t exactly what I expected to hear.”

A black paw lifted to her face, and she winked. “What? You expected me to ask for a saucer of milk?”

“Well, no. Aren’t cats lactose intolerant?” Tamiko jerked back at the death glare given to her. “Earlier you said that we’d need a lot of work if we’re going to the Soul Society. What did you mean?”

“I’ll explain everything later. First, we’re missing a couple of people. Follow me.” The cat stood and stalked away from them, tail high in the air.

Tamiko and Chad exchanged a glance before following her.

Apparently, one of those people was Orihime, who they found halfway up the stairs to her apartment. She waved to them, a beaming smile spreading from ear to ear. “Oh, hello, Tamiko and Chad! Aww, a kitty!”

“I’m more than just a cat,” the feline said with a bow of her head. “I am Yoruichi.”

Orihime sped down to them, eyes alight with sparkles. “Wow! A talking cat. That’s amazing.”

“Sure is.” Tamiko bent down and scratched Yoruichi behind the ear. A loud purr responded her, so the other hand began stroking her back. She leaned in to the touch, arching her back. After a moment, her eyes popped open and she leaped away.

“Alright, stop that. We have far more important matters to attend to,” she said, licking her paw and rubbing it against her ear. She finished grooming herself and pointed the paw at Orihime. “I have a question for you. Do you wish to go to the Soul Society?”

The sparkle left her eyes and was replaced with a serious expression. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

“Then come on. We have a long way to go before we find our final team member.” Again, Yoruichi walked away.

Orihime smiled at Tamiko and Chad before turning to follow. “Ah! This is just like out of a fairy tale. A mystical, talking cat is leading us on an adventure.”

That was putting it mildly. Tamiko looked away from her, not having the heart to dampen her spirits just yet. She’ll learn the truth soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoruichi wasn’t lying when she said they had a long way to go. They found themselves getting ready to board a bus bound for Kakure, a rural village just beyond Naruki City. Who could this last team member be, and why were they so far away?

Since cats couldn’t be on the bus without a pet carrier, Yoruichi jumped into Tamiko’s backpack. The three stared into the bag, watching her curl around a notebook.

“Is this a good idea?” Orihime asked, worry creasing her brows. “It’s going to be a long bus ride. Will you be able to breathe?”

“Just as long as Kimura doesn’t zip it up all the way. Now, hurry before the bus leaves without us.”

Tamiko bit her lip before zipping the bag up, leaving a small opening big enough for a yellow-orange eye to peek through. “Okay, but warn me if you start to suffocate. The only talking cat in the entire world, and she asphyxiated in my math homework. What a way to go.”

“Not the image I needed,” Chad said, following behind them onto the bus.

She rubbed the back of her neck, mumbling an apology.

The ride lasted a little over an hour before they reached their destination. Only a few passengers were already sitting inside, those who commuted into Karakura for either work or school. Orihime slid into a seat, and Tamiko sat beside her. Chad moved to the back seat, his legs drawing closer to him because of the cramped space.

Scenery flashed by them, going from houses to the much taller buildings of Naruki. Tamiko held her backpack in her lap, feeling the cat’s warmth leech through. She stared out the window, noting that they would be going by her house.

“Isn’t this exciting, Tamiko?” Orihime asked, tilting her head that it obscured the view. “We really are going on an adventure! Have you ever been to Kakure before?”

Tamiko smiled at the memories coming to mind. “Yeah, I have. We’d go camping there every summer. Actually, we’d leave about this time, on the last day of school. It wasn’t too far from home, so we’d hike all the way there.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun!”

“It was great.” She lowered her head, tapping her keychain to watch it sway. “I think I was seven, the last time we went.”

Has it really been that long ago? Tamiko remembered that last trip like it was yesterday. Racing through the woods with her dad. Stopping at a rest area for tea and dango. Watching a deer with Machiko. Their mother laughing. And finally reaching the campsite beside a beautiful river, a waterfall roaring in the distance.

It was the only time of the year that the four them would spend together as a family. The only time her parents took off work. And it hasn’t happened in seven years.

“Are you okay, Tamiko?” Orihime’s question snapped her out of her reverie.

She let out a nervous chuckle along with a bob of her head. “Just got lost in memories. Speaking of which... what do you remember? About Rukia?”

“That she was always by Kurosaki’s side,” Orihime promptly answered, placing clasped hands into her lap. She went into a tale about her brother being taken over by a Hollow and how Rukia was right there, helping Ichigo. “And that’s why I want to help. Because she changed his entire world.”

A flicker of jealousy darkened her eyes, but it was brief. The smile concealed it the moment Tamiko caught it. Even though she felt that way about Rukia, she was still willing to go and save her. All for Ichigo. Tamiko admired her courage.

Yoruichi spoke up, “It’s going to be dangerous. Deadly, even. Do you understand?”

“I am a little scared.” Orihime turned to stare out the window with a faraway look. “But it’s exciting, to have new powers growing inside of me. I want to see what I can do with them. How I can help.”

Tamiko asked, “New powers?”

Another story that could rival any of the ones Orihime has told before of being the most imaginative, if it wasn’t reality, was told. During the Hollow fight, fairies had appeared before her and helped her protect Tatsuki and a bunch of other students from a Hollow.

“I’m still not sure how it happened,” she said, hands brushing against one of her hair pins, “but I’m glad that it did. That I could protect Tatsuki after how many times she was there to protect me.”

Tamiko studied the flower-shaped pins. It was like with Chad, she could sense a change in the reiryoku within Orihime. How it’s grown--how soft it was. Like the petals of a flower. She worried about how delicate it seemed.

The bag shifted in her arms, a claw poking out. “You’re smothering me,” Yoruichi hissed.

“Oh! Sorry.” Tamiko loosened her hold on the bag, not having realized she had been hugging it so tightly. “Hey, just who are we going to go find anyway? I don’t know anyone in Kakure.”

“You should be able to sense him.”

Should she? Tamiko lifted her head to look out the window. The scenery has changed to rice fields and trees, the city being left behind while they spoke. Now that her mind was focusing on it, she could feel a familiar reiryoku in the distance.

“Uryu,” she whispered. What was he doing so far out of town?

“We’re going to meet up with Ishida?” Orihime asked, voice filled with joy. “That’s great! I wondered how he was doing.”

Yoruichi settled back down. “We are. He may be interested in going to the Soul Society as well.”

Tamiko frowned at the keychain, feeling certain that if he was, it wouldn’t be to rescue Rukia. For him, going to the Soul Society would be the perfect opportunity to show how superior Quincies are to Soul Reapers. Rather, how a superior a single Quincy could be to an entire army.

Their ride ended at a simple bus stop, where Yoruichi told them to disembark. Once the bus was out of sight, she squirmed around in the bag, head popping through the small opening. She gasped for air and gagged.

“Ah! Did you suffocate after all, Yoruichi?” Orihime asked as Tamiko scrambled to unzip her backpack.

“No, but I spent the entire ride with my nose in Tamiko’s lunch,” Yoruichi said, after leaping out of the bag. She shook her head and proceeded to groom herself. They turned away to give her some privacy. “You didn’t finish it, did you?”

Tamiko shrugged the backpack on. “I wasn’t all that hungry...” A realization caused her to trail off. “Hey, wait a minute!”

She whirled around and came nose to nose with Yoruichi, who leaned away from the invasion of personal space. Two minutes went by as she studied her. The whiskers, yellow-orange eyes, silky black fur, and paws. Tamiko picked one up to get a good look at the pink pads underneath.

Yoruichi kept her eyes on her the entire time, tail flicking back and forth. “And what are you doing?”

“I knew it!” She stopped in her examination and pointed a finger into her face. “You’re that same cat! The one who jumped through the broken window yesterday.”

Understanding glowed within her eyes. “Ah, I wondered when you’d figure it out. You should eat more, especially when you have access to such good food.”

“R-right.” Tamiko glanced away, cheeks flushing pink.

“Now, we should get going. We have about a thirty minute hike ahead of us.” Yoruichi stood, stretched, and began to lead the way into the woods.

The three traipsed behind her, Uryu’s reiryoku getting ever closer. Even without it and Yoruichi to lead the way, Tamiko knew exactly where they were going. The sound of running water tickled her ears, and soon, the roaring of the falls took over. They were heading straight for her family’s old campsite, but how did he know about it? She couldn’t imagine him camping with his father.

‘Or maybe his grandfather brought him up here?’ she wondered, gripping the straps of her backpack.

Actually, they went right by the campsite. She only caught a glimpse of the stones marking their fire pit through the trees. The sound of the waterfall grew louder. It came into view as they stepped into a clearing. A massive cascade of water, running over rocks and into the river.

Before it, stood Uryu. Only one bandage remained, the one on his left concealing the wound from the night before. His back was to them, head tilted up to stare at the waterfall.

“There he is!” Orihime cried, pointing. She waved when he spun around. “Hey, Ishida!”

Uryu adjusted his glasses, taking them in with a bewildered expression. “Inoue? Sado? And Kimura? What are you three doing all the way out here?”

“Why, we came to find you,” Tamiko said, a grin beginning to stretch over her face.

“You traveled all this way just for that?” he asked as if he didn’t believe her.

“A cat told us to.”

His eyes drifted down to where she pointed. “A cat told...?”

Yoruichi sat down at their feet and waved a paw. “I did, indeed,” she said.

He jerked back, eyes bulging out of his head. “Wha...! H-how!?”

“I just said that she told us to come find you.” Tamiko’s shoulders trembled from laughter that wanted to break out, but wouldn’t.

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain how she can talk!” Uryu took a deep breath and pushed up his glasses. “Excuse me. Lost my composure there for a moment. Why did the three of you follow a... talking cat to reach me?”

“Why don’t we have a seat, and I’ll explain everything?” Yoruichi walked by them and hopped onto a tall rock, Uryu watching her warily. When everyone was settled on the nearby boulders, she began, “It seems all of you are aware of what has happened to Rukia Kuchiki and what Ichigo plans to do, so I’ll cut to the chase. I want to train the four of you to go to the Soul Society with him.”

For the next several minutes, she detailed the plans. They would be training with her for 10 straight days, until she has to go help Urahara--of course she knew him--open the gate between the two worlds. That would leave 13 days to rescue Rukia before her execution.

“Are 10 days enough?” Chad spoke up when Yoruichi asked for questions. “To get strong enough to fight Soul Reapers?”

“No.” Yoruichi’s answer was blunt. “But it will have to suffice. We have limited time, and if you trained up till the last minute, you’ll be too exhausted to do much good when we get there.”

Orihime’s question came next, “Then how can we help? If we can’t get strong enough, what can we do?”

“Each of you have varying strengths and weaknesses. If you learn how to work together, you should be able to help Ichigo. The plan is to get in, rescue Rukia, and get out. If we’re quick, we shouldn’t encounter any higher level Soul Reapers.”

“Sounds too idealistic to me,” Uryu said, “to expect such a clean operation with only a group of teenagers.”

Tamiko had to agree. There were so many things that could go wrong. So many factors that may not be accounted for until far too late. Her eyes found a pebble to stare at. “Can we even be sure that her execution is a whole month away?”

“That is proper procedure,” Yoruichi answered. “Central 46 typically takes that long to go over a criminal’s actions and pass their judgment. The Soul Society hasn’t changed their policy in over 900 years. I don’t suspect them to do so now.”

“Excuse me, but what is Central 46?” Orihime asked, raising her hand.

“It is a council of forty men and six judges. They are made up of nobles from all over the Soul Society, and they receive mandates directly from the Soul King. It’s their duty to create the laws and pass judgment on those who break them.”

Tamiko looked up at Yoruichi, heart fluttering. “Who is the Soul King?”

Yoruichi regarded her for a moment. “That is something not many Soul Reapers know,” she eventually said. “While he does guide Central 46 in some cases, he isn’t in direct control of the Soul Society. He is never seen or heard by anyone except for Squad Zero, the Royal Guard.”

“So it’s an aristocracy.”

“Yes.”

An aristocracy that hasn’t changed in nearly a whole millennium. Uryu hadn’t been exaggerating after all. Was that really what kept the World of the Living and Soul Society in balance? Tamiko supposed she would never know for sure.

“And you’re going to send us in to break out one of their prisoners?” Uryu asked with a push of his glasses.

“It may seem impossible, but with the four of you working alongside Ichigo, it’s feasible.”

He rose from his boulder. “Thanks, but I must decline the offer.”

“Why, Ishida?” Orihime asked. “It would be a lot of fun to train together.”

“I’m sorry, but I want to do this on my own.” He turned away, striding over to a small campsite nestled under the trees. “I have no plans on rescuing Kuchiki.”

Chad and Orihime exchanged frowns while Tamiko looked at her hands. She had been right in her assumption earlier. All he wanted to do was get stronger because he had lost to Soul Reapers. His words confirmed it.

He continued, “That’s it. Her problem is not mine.”

“Then there isn’t any point to lingering further,” Yoruichi said, hopping down from her perch.

“But, Yoruichi...” Orihime started to argue.

“You heard him. He doesn’t want to train with us. We should go, so we can catch the next bus back.” She disappeared into the trees.

Chad stood, held out a hand to Tamiko, and nodded to Orihime. “Let’s go.”

“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.” Tamiko cast a small smile up at him. “And don’t worry about me getting lost.”

The two followed after Yoruichi, fading into the darkening shadows. Only the sound of the rushing water was audible, and Tamiko watched it. The last rays of light sparkled on the surface.

“You should go, Kimura, before you miss the bus,” Uryu said after a moment. “If you think you can change my mi--”

“I’m not going to try and change your mind,” she said, cutting him off.

“Then why are you still here?”

“To enjoy the peace. I feel like that’ll be in short supply soon.”

There was no argument. A pair of birds fluttered overhead, and she turned her gaze up to watch them. To watch them turn, soar, and affectionately brush against each other’s wings. Finally, she stood and began to follow her friends’ pressures.

“Please, Uryu,” she said, not looking back, “don’t do anything stupid. And if you do somehow change your mind, you know how to find us.”

She walked away without hearing his reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grunts and groans echoed through the empty warehouse. Their faces were strained as if in great pain. Orihime stretched her hands up into the air with a loud cry. Chad’s muscles bulged, tightening.

Tamiko massaged the back of her neck as she watched. Yoruichi had asked them to activate their powers the moment they entered the warehouse, but nothing they were doing seemed to work. The reiryoku in their bodies wasn’t activating at all.

“If you can’t find your powers, then going to the Soul Society would be suicide,” Yoruichi said, putting an end to their attempt.

“There... has to be a way.” Orihime panted, hands on her knees.

Yoruichi looked up at Tamiko, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Why don’t you demonstrate for them?” she asked.

“Oh. Right.” She lifted the broken staff and poured reiryoku into it. The yellow reishi expanded both ends, with the broken piece in the center. It formed a full staff, weighing the same as one too. Orihime looked on with fascination lighting her eyes while Chad took on a more stunned expression. “You just concentrate on the reiryoku in your body. If you do that, it may be easier to activate your abilities.”

“Yes, Tamiko makes an excellent point.” Yoruichi’s gaze flicked back to the others. “Your first lesson is to recognize your own reiryoku and use it to summon your power.”

“I’ll try,” Orihime whispered. Her eyes glazed over in deep thought. Reiryoku sparkled around her hair pins.

Chad turned towards her. “It glowed.”

“Really?” Joy beamed on her face, a hand jumping towards a pin.

“Yeah, it glowed with reiryoku,” Tamiko said, a small smile breaking out on her face. “Like Uryu’s cross.”

“Quincies use energy within the atmosphere to form spirit weapons. For the two of you, you’ll be using what’s inside you. Thus, your powers will take on completely different forms.” Yoruichi looked between Orihime and Chad before her eyes settled on Tamiko, eyeing her weapon.

She took it in as well, noticing that it was somewhat different to Uryu’s bow. How it was aglow with yellow reishi rather than blue. “Except that I’m not a Quincy. I didn’t use the reiryoku in the air to create it.”

“It took on that form, because that was what you desired. What you needed in the very instant that your life was on the line. The heart and soul are connected. All you need is to know why you want it. Why do you want to go to the Soul Society?”

There were multiple reasons. She wanted to see Machiko again. Going to the other side would be her opportunity to do so. Another one was to keep Uryu out of trouble--Tamiko knew he was bound to do something to hurt himself. But, she voiced her main reason, “To help save Rukia. It isn’t fair for her to be put to death for sacrificing herself to save innocent lives.”

“And what about you?” Yoruichi turned to Orihime.

After a deep breath, she answered, “Because I want to protect Kurosaki.”

Her hair pins glowed even brighter. The petals separated, transforming into six tiny beings. At first, they resembled origami cranes as they soared through the air. But the more Tamiko watched them, the more she could see other body parts: an arm, leg, or a face. They must be the fairies that Orihime had spoken about.

Tamiko, Yoruichi, and Chad watched in a stunned silence as one snatched and yanked Orihime’s hair. A cry shot out of her mouth.

“Stupid girl!” the fairy yelled. “Why did you call us if you weren’t in any danger!?”

“I’m sorry...” Tears beaded in her eyes.

That was interesting. To get beaten up by one’s own ability. “I guess that imagination of hers took a life of its own,” Tamiko mumbled.

Yoruichi let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s going to need a lot of work in order to control them properly.” Her head turned to Chad. “What about you? You must have a reason for wanting to go to the Soul Society.”

He watched Orihime and the other fairies struggle with the one that would not stop pulling her hair--apparently his name was Tsubaki. Chad met Tamiko’s eyes.

“I want to help Ichigo,” he said at last. “He always has my back, so I’ll have his.”

Reiryoku shifted from the center of his body and into his left arm. It became encased in red and black armor. He lifted and stared at it. A triumphant look softened his eyes.

“You did it, Chad,” Tamiko said, smiling and stepping over to get a closer look. “So that’s the ‘something that happened.’ Yours and Orihime’s powers are so cool. I’m kind of jealous.”

“Think so?”

She let the laughter ring out. “I know so!”

With everyone able to call their abilities, Yoruichi set them to work on how to control them. Orihime was sent to a corner, where she chatted with her fairies. They were a part of her, so getting to know them better would help in controlling them.

Meanwhile, Chad worked on summoning his. The armor would disappear and reappear, the time in between growing shorter. Sweat beaded on his head, and his chest heaved with deep breaths.

Yoruichi took Tamiko aside. “Since you already seemed to have mastered summoning your weapon, there’s something else you could work on.”

“There is? What is it?” She stared directly into the pair of yellow-orange eyes.

“You have the potential of masking your reiatsu completely. It’s something that only a few Soul Reapers can master, and it could become an invaluable skill if you could learn how to do it.”

“That would hide my presence, wouldn’t it? So I couldn’t be detected?”

“Correct. While they are getting adjusted to their powers, I’ll work with you. You won’t be able to master it in less than 10 days time, but it’ll be a start.”

Tamiko nodded, heart bursting with determination. Whatever it took to become stronger, she would do it. For her friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days ticked by. Each one started the same: Tamiko woke up, ate breakfast, helped with the dishes, and rushed off. Thankfully, Sango believed she was merely idling the summer days away with shopping, movies, and hiking rather than training to go on a dangerous rescue mission.

“It’s been such a nice summer,” Sango commented while they washed dishes one morning. “I’m so glad you’ve been able to enjoy it with your friends. What are you girls going to do today?”

“We’re going to hit the arcade,” Tamiko said with an excited smile.

“That sounds fun. Wish I could join in, but my nursing duties don’t get a vacation. Although, I just found out that I don’t have a shift the evening of the Fireworks Festival. I’ll be able to join you and your friends!”

“Really? Great! I’ll let Orihime know. She’ll be happy to hear it.”

Once the dishes were put away, Tamiko took one last look at the kitchen. A new window had been put in the other day, and the delivery truck with the new stove--that Urahara destroyed--should be arriving later that afternoon. Sango was excited, planning a large dinner to test it out.

Tamiko was grateful, her appetite growing from the training Yoruichi was putting them through. Not only was she working with them to control their powers, but she was also putting them through their paces. Each morning started out with calisthenics, and she directed them with her tail.

Next was meditation, focusing on their reiryoku. She guided them in lowering, increasing, and even trying to hide it. When Orihime and Chad were all set, she moved over to Tamiko, giving her special instruction on reiatsu masking. Apparently, it was different to reiryoku hiding, as it required deep concentration while being alert to everything else.

“Masking reiatsu will allow you to keep fighting and not be detected as easily,” Yoruichi had explained. “But doing that takes years of practice, so don’t push yourself in trying it now. With any luck, you won’t be in too many fights to need it.”

Lunch came next. The group ate food brought from home as if they were in school. Tamiko packed extra fish for Yoruichi, who seemed pleased by the thoughtfulness. Orihime brought cat treats, and her eyes lit up at them. She may be their sensei, but at the end of the day, she was still a cat.

Lessons in ability control took over, and Yoruichi spent time working with all three of them individually. It seemed that Orihime needed extra attention in this area, not just because her fairies were hard to manage, but because she could use different techniques. She practiced summoning a shield and using Tsubaki to hit targets. If anyone happened to get so much as a scratch, she healed it with Ayame and Shun’o.

Chad practiced his arm’s strength by piling a bunch of rocks and wood planks and smashing them into rubble. With each passing day, he was able to break more and more without wearing himself out.

During these times, Tamiko went over various bojutsu techniques, getting a feel for the new weapon. She realized that she could control its strength depending on how much reiryoku she put into it. For practice, she used a handmade dummy and a rusted iron girder. With the dummy, she decreased her energy to keep from cutting it open. And with the girder, she increased it in an attempt to cut it. So far, she only managed to dent it.

Finally, before they ended training for the day, Yoruichi set them up to spar with each other. One would be designated as an enemy Soul Reaper while the other two had to work together in either evading or bringing them down. When they did have to fight, everyone held back to keep the other person from getting hurt.

“You’re supposed to be treating this exercise as an actual confrontation with a Soul Reaper!” Yoruichi exclaimed in frustration. “You shouldn’t be holding back against an enemy who intends to kill you.”

But her words seemed to fall on deaf hears. Tamiko understood, but she wasn’t about to hurt her friends. She knew if faced with a real enemy, she wouldn’t be holding back.

On the final day, Chad could easily break through one of the walls of the warehouse. Orihime’s shield could block all manner of projectiles as well as attacks from Tamiko and Chad--maybe. And Tamiko managed to cut into the girder, but only part of the way.

“I’m proud at how far you three have come,” Yoruichi said before they parted ways. “Now, take the week to rest and get your affairs in order. While we hope for a quick mission, there’s still a chance we’ll be in the Soul Society for the full 13 days, so be prepared.”

They have come a long way. Tamiko felt how much stronger she and her friends have gotten, but would it be enough? In one week, they would be heading into enemy territory. One week to see if their training paid off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re going on a trip with your friends?” Sango asked after swallowing the mouthful of candied apple. “That’s wonderful, Tamiko! Oh, I envy you.”

Tamiko gave her a soft smile, walking by her side through the park. All around them, the Fireworks Festival was in full swing. A group of children ran by with sparklers in their hands, laughing. Others were picking out spots to see the impending display.

Dr. Kurosaki’s voice merrily rang out, “See, isn’t this the perfect spot? We’ll be able to see the fireworks without any trees or buildings in the way!”

He, his daughters, and Ichigo’s friends were already gathered. As Tamiko and Sango passed by, Keigo called, “Kimura! You can have this spot next to me!”

“Thanks, Asano. I’ll be right there!” She waved back, not having the heart to turn him down a second time.

Sango laughed as his eyes lit up with excitement. “You sure have made a lot of friends. Machiko would be proud.”

“Yeah, she would.”

‘And she may even get to meet a few of them’ Tamiko thought, imagining what their reunion would be like. Machiko, finger waving, would be furious to find her there so soon. But then a smile would break out on her face, learning the truth and seeing how many friends she has made.

A brief visit. Only a few minutes was all that Tamiko was asking for. Long enough to see and hug her sister before going off to rescue Rukia. It was the one thing to look forward to about going to the Soul Society.

“If there was something you wanted to tell Machiko, what would it be?” Tamiko asked when Sango tossed away the leftover stick and apple core. “Hypothetically. If you were to see her again?”

She took on a thoughtful look, head tilting towards the sky. “I suppose I’d tell her all about how great it has been, living with you. After being alone for a whole year, it’s nice to have someone to come home to.”

Tamiko smiled at that. It was good to hear that she got something out of their living arrangement. She grabbed her hand. “Come on. We better get back to the others before the first firework goes off.”

Hand in hand, they joined the group. Ichigo had arrived before them, standing off to the side. His powers were certainly back, but his reiatsu was calmer, more controlled. Tamiko wondered how his training with Urahara had gone.

The smell of rain drifted through the air, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She turned her head to find Uryu standing on a building. He was there, but keeping his distance from the group. She wished he wouldn’t.

Whatever he did to train must have worked, because he had gotten considerably stronger as well. Was it really just to prove the strength of the Quincies? She was determined to keep an eye on him. Make sure he didn’t do something foolish.

Bright lights and explosions grabbed her attention. She sighed and told herself to focus on having fun instead of worrying about what was to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At long last, the night of the gate opening had arrived. The entire evening was spent pouring over what to wear and bring on the trip. They could be there for the full 13 days. A long time to be within enemy territory without knowing for sure if there would be access to food, water, and facilities.

In the end, Tamiko decided to take her backpack. She loaded it with protein bars, water, and a first aid kit--the broken staff was slipped in last. For several minutes, she debated bringing the keychain with her. It may have survived an encounter with a Hollow, but would it survive a trip to the other side? Not wanting to risk it, she left it on her desk.

What to wear was the hardest decision. She pulled nearly everything out of her closet and dresser, scattering clothes all over the room. It was probably safe to assume that the weather would be the same: warm and sometimes humid. A t-shirt depicting a cute rabbit character, a pair of black cotton pants, and she would wear her tennis shoes. As an afterthought, she stuffed a jacket and fingerless gloves into the bag.

When everything was ready to go, she opened the window. Before the fireworks festival, Ichigo had pulled her aside with a message from Urahara, telling her to keep her window open on the night of the 8th. A message would arrive.

‘Maybe Urahara’s sending it through Yoruichi?’ Tamiko wondered, stepping back from the open window. ‘Or he’s employed carrier pigeons.’

It wasn’t long until she got her answer in the form of a ball with Urahara’s face on it. She ducked just in time for it to whiz past her head and splat against the wall above the desk. What looked like blood oozed down, leaving behind a series of words.

‘Please, meet at the Urahara Shop immediately,’ she read, standing and walking towards it. She touched the first word, and her fingers were smeared with red. ‘This isn’t real blood, is it?’

As she sniffed at her fingers--relieved that it was merely red paint--more words appeared.

‘P.S. For those who think this looks like a message written in the victim’s blood cliche, you have no sense of humor.’

She rolled her eyes at it, scrubbing at her fingers with a tissue. “Very funny, Urahara. You just better hope that paint comes off. And that Sango doesn’t come in here and have a heart attack.”

Tamiko was quiet in leaving the apartment. She left a note for Sango in the kitchen, telling her they left early to catch the first train. Hopefully, she won’t worry too much when she doesn’t get any calls or postcards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, you’re the first one to arrive, Tamiko!” Urahara chimed the moment she stepped in front of the shop. He was leaning against the side of the building with Yoruichi perched on his shoulder. Snapping his fan shut, he approached her. “Are you prepared to go on such a dangerous mission?”

Looking him in the eye, she said, “I am. Even got a little practice in while waiting for you to open the gate. Went to a bojutsu class and picked up a new technique.” She adjusted her bag and grinned.

He returned the expression. “There’s something else you need in order to be fully prepared,” and he leaned closer to her. “Within the Soul Society, there is a particular captain. A mad genius who’d love nothing more than to get his hands on you. Stay far away from him.”

The tone of his voice was serious, so much so that it sent chills down her spine. “I thought we wouldn’t be encountering any captains?”

“Of course! You shouldn’t.~” His face brightened up as he straightened, patting her on the shoulder. He waved his closed fan. “If all goes well, it shouldn’t be a problem at all. Just thought I’d give you a fair warning.”

So there was another captain she should be worried about other than Byakuya Kuchiki? It stood to reason that she should worry about all of them. What was the point in warning her about a particular one? Just before she could ask the question, footsteps crunched into the dirt yard behind her.

Chad stepped up to her side, raising a hand in greeting. She returned it, watching Urahara sidle back up to the shop. He was scratching Yoruichi behind the ear.

“We only need to wait for the other three,” he said. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Tamiko felt the pressures of Ichigo and Orihime coming closer alongside each other, while Uryu’s was still several blocks away in the opposite direction. The pair ran into the yard, panting from their sprint through town.

“Hey, guys,” Ichigo said, looking between Tamiko and Chad. “You two got here first?”

“That was fast.” Orihime panted, hands sliding to her knees.

“I just happen to know exactly where the shop is.” Tamiko offered them a small smile. Interesting how the two wound up arriving together.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Chad said with a shrug. “Got the message while walking.”

A couple of minutes later, Uryu arrived wearing a peculiar outfit. Dressed all in white, he resembled a western monk from an RPG with the mantle over his shoulders. There was a glove on his right hand while his left was bare. No sign of his cross, but he could be wearing it underneath.

He stopped, eyes sweeping over them. His glasses were pushed up. “Looks like I’m the last to arrive.”

“Fashionably late,” Tamiko pointed out.

Ichigo walked up to him. “Don’t tell me you walked all the way through town in that weird outfit, Ishida?” He tugged on the mantle. “Talk about embarrassing!”

“For your information, this happens to be a traditional Quincy outfit designed specifically for fighting. And you’re getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!” Uryu slapped his hand away.

“It just so happens that I washed my hands before leaving, so they aren’t grubby.” Ichigo glared in return, waving his hand as if the slap hurt.

“Either way, you should be jealous. It’s much cooler than anything you ever wear. Especially as a Soul Reaper.”

Before Ichigo could retort, Urahara clapped his hands. “Now, now,” he said, pushing off of the building and turning towards the door. “It’s time to head inside. There, I’ll explain everything you must do in order to get into the Soul Society. Listen carefully, otherwise you may die before you even get there.”

He led them into a dark room beyond the shop. A light flickered on, revealing a trapdoor in the center. It was opened. Peering into the hole, Tamiko saw a ladder stretching into the abyss.

She backed away from it, legs trembling. “D-down there?” she asked and swallowed.

“Of course!” Urahara cheerfully exclaimed, stepping onto one of the rungs. Yoruichi hopped off his shoulder as he slid down. “Come now. There isn’t any time to waste!”

Uryu stepped down next, followed by Chad. Orihime joined them, giving Tamiko an encouraging smile. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be right below you.”

“I’ll catch you, if you slip,” Ichigo said, putting his feet on the ladder the moment Orihime’s head disappeared beneath the floorboards. “It’s not as far down as it looks.”

Her hands fiddled with the straps of her backpack. “I don’t know...”

Yoruichi hopped onto her shoulder, purring into her ear. “I’ll be right here with you,” she said. “You won’t fall.”

With a nod, Tamiko shakily placed her feet on the third rung. Her eyes clenched shut, and she gingerly moved one foot after the other down. Every so often, she paused and hugged the ladder. Each time, Yoruichi pressed against her cheek.

Down below, she heard Orihime and Ichigo shouting encouragement. Even Uryu uttered a reassurance. Listening to them, Tamiko continued to make her way down. Finally, her feet hit solid ground. Her legs gave out, knees embedding into dirt.

“Are you alright, Tamiko?” Ichigo asked.

She blinked up, meeting his eyes as he crouched in front of her. Everyone else looked down at her with concerned eyes. Yoruichi continued to purr in her ears.

Tamiko smiled at all of the, brushing a finger between Yoruichi’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Come along now!” Urahara called in the distance.

“Better get goin’,” Ichigo held out his hand. She took it, and he pulled her along into a standing position.

The shock of climbing down wore off, and she took a good look at their surroundings while following behind the others. It was a rocky area underneath a bright blue sky. No way could they be under a small shop in the middle of town. “This place is massive.”

Voice filled with wonder, Orihime breathed, “Amazing!”

“It is impressive,” Uryu said, head turning to scan the area.

“Meh.” Ichigo shrugged, hands clasped behind his head. “I spent 10 days here nearly getting my ass killed. Gets kinda dull after a while.”

They stopped before Urahara, who was twirling his cane. Yoruichi leaped off of Tamiko’s shoulder and landed next to him. The cane stopped, pointing directly at Ichigo. “First things first.”

He jabbed it right into his forehead, knocking his body backwards and leaving him in Soul Reaper form. A different sword was strapped to his back, resembling an overgrown knife.

Exclamations of surprise escaped Orihime and Chad. Uryu blinked, skirting away to keep from being knocked over by the falling body. Chad caught it under the arms, gently lowering it to the ground.

“Wow, cool,” Orihime said, kneeling beside it. She poked at a cheek, looking up at Ichigo. “There’s two of you!”

Apparently Uryu couldn’t handle the curiosity, crouching down and examining the body. He tugged on Ichigo’s clothing.

Tamiko let out a light chuckle. Even she got in on the action, roughly ruffling his hair.

Ichigo adjusted his sash, giving them a side glare. “Don’t be touching my body so freely like that. It’s weird.”

“But fun,” Tamiko said, pulling her hand away to wave it at him.

“Hey, look over here!~” Urahara sang, and everyone looked up to see him dancing and waving his hands in the air. “I’m beginning the explanation of the gate!”

The body of Ichigo was forgotten about, their attention on Urahara. He pounded his cane into the dirt, and a massive frame materialized behind him. He gestured to it.

“Only souls can pass through the Senkaimon, so you will need to go through here first. It’s a spirit exchanger. It’ll convert your bodies in reishi, which is what makes up the Soul Society.”

“So that means we won’t have to separate with our bodies?” Uryu asked.

“Correct! Urahara beamed at him, holding up a finger. “The process will be painless. You won’t notice a thing. But beyond it is the Dangai, the precipice world. You only have four minutes to get out before you’re trapped forever.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. That wasn’t much time, especially without knowing how far the dimension stretched. Tamiko gulped, understanding that they would have to be quick.

“Once time is up, the door will close,” Urahara continued. “It is also filled with a current to prevent enemies from getting in. Just one foot caught by it, and you’ll be stuck.”

“Then what should we do?” Orihime asked, voice small.

“Keep moving forward,” Yoruichi said, walking to stand between them and the portal. “Remember that the heart and soul are connected. As long as your heart truly wants to continue moving forward, you will. There’s no turning around once we’re inside. Only those who are truly ready for the task can follow me.”

Ichigo scoffed, striding up beside her. “What are you talking about? Everyone chose to come, didn’t they? That means they’re determined to go!”

“If we lose, there’s no coming back.”

“Then we won’t lose.” He adjusted his Zanpakutō.

“Very well.” Yoruichi dashed through the frame, disappearing into thin air.

With an encouraging glance back, Ichigo followed after. Chad, Orihime, and Uryu were on his heels. Tamiko moved her backpack to hug it to her chest before dashing after them.

Everything from the last few months flashed back into her mind, starting with the moment she first saw Rukia being introduced to the class. Ichigo saving her from the Hollow that killed her sister. Everyone visiting her in the hospital and sending gifts. Seeing the tears of Machiko’s friends at the wake. Uryu walking her home. Kon’s first taste of ramen. Don Kanonji’s disastrous show. Playing games at the Tanabata Festival. Being cared for by Sango. Uryu injuring himself to save Ichigo’s life, and the two Soul Reapers that nearly undid it.

So much has happened, both good and bad. Tamiko was determined to face the bad head on. That way, the good could be enjoyed by everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a long one! The longest one yet. I certainly did not plan on it being so long, but I love how it turned out. A good way to end the first half of this first part. In the next chapter, we begin the Soul Society arc!
> 
> Due to how long it took me to complete this chapter and my upcoming birthday, I've decided to take next weekend off from posting a new chapter. Chapter 13 should be posted on September 5th. I hope to see you then! <3


	13. The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamiko and friends make a crash landing into the Soul Society, but it isn't the heaven they expected to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.

A long, dark tunnel stretched out before them. All Tamiko could see were the backs of her friends, running ahead. No matter how fast she willed her legs to move, they just got further and further away. Her heart beat out of her chest, lungs fit to burst. She clung to her backpack like a lifeline.

“Keep moving forward and don’t look back!” Yoruichi called, voice bouncing off the slime covered walls. She couldn’t be seen, but Tamiko sensed the trail of reiatsu she left behind. “Be quick. We only have two minutes left!”

Her words should have hastened Tamiko’s feet, but they seemed to drag. She stole a quick glance behind her, a wall of slime at her heels. The ‘current,’ Urahara had called it. If it swallowed her, she’d be forever caught within the Dangai. She yelped, leaning away from it.

“Kimura!” Uryu yelled, and she saw him glancing over his shoulder. “You have to move faster than that!”

“I’m going as fast as I can! Not my fault you guys are such speed demons!”

He fell back from the group. When she caught up to him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. She was grateful for the consideration, but it was only slowing him down. Out of worry, she squeezed his hand.

Ichigo looked behind him and groaned. “You two need to hurry it up back there, or you’ll get caught!”

“I know that, Kurosaki!” Uryu snapped back. “I’d use Hirenkyaku to help, but Yoruichi expressly forbid the use of abilities that utilize reiryoku.”

“Hirenkyoko?”

An exasperated sigh left his lips. “Hirenkyaku. It’s a Quincy technique. Far superior to a Soul Reaper’s--”

Yoruichi cut him off with a yowl. “Stop bickering and focus on running!”

The two exchanged a scowl before Ichigo faced forward once more. Everyone grew quiet, allowing Tamiko to worry about the time limit. They had to be getting dangerously close to the four minute mark.

Something snagged, and she somehow got ahead of Uryu, pulling at his arm. She whirled around. His mantle was tight around his neck, eyes bulging. He gasped, struggling to pry it loose. It had gotten caught in the current, yanking him towards it.

Ichigo turned around, allowing the others to run ahead of him. “I knew that outfit of yours would get you in trouble, Ishida! Guess I have to save your sorry ass again.” When he reached for his sword, Yoruichi leaped onto his face. “Yoruichi, get off me!”

All of his shaking and tugging did nothing to loosen her hold. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? You can’t use your Zanpakutō here! Do you want to get us all killed?”

Tamiko shook her head, trying to ignore what was happening in the background. She glared at the useless item of clothing. Her free hand thrust forward and grabbed the clasp, undoing it. Freed at last, Uryu stumbled forward, almost falling into her arms. He took deep, grateful breaths, whispering, “T-thank you.”

Before she could return the sentiment, Chad scooped her up. With his other arm, he grabbed Uryu and tossed him over his shoulder. He dashed to rejoin the others.

“Ack! Put me down, Chad! I can run on my own.” Uryu yelped.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tamiko saw his legs flopping behind Chad’s back. Relieved, she laughed, the sound echoing around them. “Thanks for the ride, Chad.”

He grunted in answer, his hold tightening as if to ensure she was secure.

A bright light flooded the tunnel. She squinted against it. The source appeared to be some kind of large vehicle, and it was rushing and breaking through the current towards them.

“Don’t look now, but I think the train’s coming!” she yelled, craning her head behind her to watch Yoruichi’s tail streaming behind her.

“It’s the kototsu!” she shouted back. “It sweeps through the Dangai once a week to get rid of intruders. Just our luck that today is the day. If you touch it, you’ll die!”

“Oh, great. Not like this place wasn’t bad enough!” Ichigo exclaimed.

“Keep running. We’re nearly there!”

The light grew brighter, the kototsu inching closer and closer with each passing second. Tamiko watched it, blood pumping in her ears. Any second now, it would be close enough for her to reach out and touch. Her screams filled the tunnel.

Orihime planted her foot firmly on the ground and faced the oncoming threat. She held her hands to her hair clips, calling out, “Santen Kesshun, I reject! Hinagiku, Baigon, Lily!”

The three fairies flew out, spreading the orange barrier between them and the kototsu. It collided with it, the light becoming blindingly bright. A loud explosion sounded, and everyone went flying, soaring out into the warm sunshine.

Tamiko clung to Chad’s waist, eyes clenched shut. They were falling. Falling to their deaths. She felt his hold tighten on her, an ache going through her side.

Next thing she knew, they were still. The only sounds she could hear were the quiet groans of people having survived a fall. No one sounded like they were in intense pain.

She shifted, feeling his arm still wrapped around her. Her backpack was lodged between it and her chest. Burying her face into it, she tried to calm her racing heart.

“Are you, okay, Tamiko?” Chad asked, hold loosening. “Sorry. I couldn’t hold you both.”

“Y-yeah, I think so.” She lifted her head and opened her eyes.

And Uryu’s butt was the first thing she saw. It was sticking up in the air--he practically landed on his face. Her cheeks went ablaze, and she wriggled free to kneel on the ground. She swept her gaze around the area, getting a good look at the positions her other friends had landed in.

While Chad managed to hit the ground on one knee, Orihime had landed on both of hers. Yoruichi was sprawled out on the ground beside her, legs twitching. Ichigo appeared to have fallen on his neck, and Tamiko’s heart stop at the sight. She let out a breath when she saw him rocking forward in an attempt to get out of the position. Underneath them was the Santen Kesshun, having cushioned their fall.

Her gaze went back to Uryu, seeing that he managed to sit up. He adjusted his glasses and smoothed out his sleeves. Yoruichi was the next to get up; she stretched, claws out. Orihime watched them, expression soft.

“Is everyone alright? Did anyone get hurt?” she asked, eyes drifting over to Ichigo who was still struggling to get up.

Uryu took in the group as well. “Everyone appears to be fine. Hm... Kimura?” His eyebrow raised as Tamiko snapped away from him, unable to stop thinking about what she just saw.

“That’s a relief,” Orihime said cheerfully. “I wasn’t sure if my shield would be strong enough to hold all of us. I’m so glad that it did!”

Yoruichi glared daggers at her, claws still out. “Don’t you realize how dangerous that was? If any of the Shun Shun Rikka had touched the kototsu, they would have been destroyed!”

Her cheerfulness melted away at the harsh tone. “I’m sorry...” she whispered.

“Hey, lay off her,” Ichigo said, finally managing to get up to his feet. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was her quick thinking that saved us.”

The glare turned on him. “And if you would have unsheathed your Zanpakutō, we’d all be dead.”

“What else was I supposed to do? Ishida’s bizarre sense of fashion nearly got him killed.”

“For your information, mantles are very fashionable.” Uryu casted a look of murder in his direction before reaching into his tunic. He pulled out a second cape. “Good thing I brought a spare. But I didn’t think I would need it so soon.”

He brought a change of clothes. To a rescue mission. Tamiko watched him clasp it around his neck and tug on it to rid it of wrinkles. She snorted. And then completely lost it, peals of laughter ringing out. The blank looks she received only increased their intensity.

“And just what is so funny?” Uryu asked, eyebrow raising yet again.

“I wish I had packed a camera,” she managed between howls, pointing at him. “You should’ve seen how you landed! Thanks for the view.”

“How I landed? What are you talking about?” Confusion wrote itself all over his face, but she was laughing far too hard to formulate a response. He looked towards the others for help. “Did she hit her head or something?”

Orihime joined in with titters of her own.

Ichigo answered with a shrug. “No clue.”

Chad shook his head. “Sorry. I lost my hold on you, Ishida.”

“Then what does she mean by the view...” Uryu trailed off, face beginning to glow red. The realization sent his hand over his mouth and eyes to widen at her. “And just why were you staring?”

“Couldn’t help it. You were right in my face.” She waved one hand while the other wiped away the tears that were leaking from her eyes.

He turned away from her, taking deep breaths. When her laughter petered off, he cleared his throat and looked around. “Where are we? It looks like we’ve landed in a village.”

Tamiko stood, twisting around to take in their surroundings. It appeared that they stepped back in time to feudal Japan, standing on a dirt road with wooden structures all around them. There were no signs of modern conveniences. No vehicles, power poles, or even stop signs. In fact, the street was barren. And it was broad daylight. Hadn’t it been around midnight when they entered the Dangai? They spent less than four minutes within it, so...

A giant, white wall caught her eye. It certainly stood out among the much simpler buildings, being made out of stone and towering above them. Something about it sent chills down her back, so she turned away from it.

“We’re in West Rukon. Also known as Junrinan,” Yoruichi informed. “Just one of many districts that the souls of the dead come to live.”

“Then where is everyone? Shouldn’t the streets be filled with people?” Uryu asked.

Movement flashed through one of the windows. Tamiko took a step closer to it, seeing someone fading deeper into the building. “They’re hiding. We’re intruders, so they must be frightened.”

Yoruichi nodded in confirmation. “Yes. Souls that suddenly appear without the guidance of a Hell Butterfly are called ‘ryoka,’ and are considered the root cause of all kinds of trouble.”

Ichigo strode forward and leaned to peer into the window. He waved, apparently seeing someone. There was a muffled scream, and he jerked back.

“What’s their deal?” he asked, turning to Yoruichi. “I only waved.”

“Not only are you a ryoka, but you’re also dressed as a Soul Reaper. Many of the residents either fear or outright despise them.”

Tamiko turned to Uryu as he inched closer to the building. “You’d fit right in,” she said with half a grin.

He turned away from it, pushing up his glasses. “And can you blame them? Look at the state of these structures. They should’ve been repaired centuries ago.”

She moved closer to the house, her hand reaching out to touch the weathered wood. Looking up, she noted the holes in the roof and loose boards. Many other buildings were far worse, nearly being nothing more than sticks tied together.

“And this isn’t the poorest district,” Yoruichi said, voice tinged with sadness. “That honor belongs to the outlying districts. Ones far from the Seireitei, where the Soul Reapers live.”

It was dystopian. Tamiko’s hand recoiled from the building, not sure what exactly she had expected. She shouldn’t be surprised, especially after learning that the entire dimension was ruled by nobles. Of course Soul Reapers would be the ones living in comfort while regular souls toiled outside their walls. A pang went through her heart.

The sound of a fist slamming into a hand yanked her from her thoughts. Ichigo turned, looking every which way.

“That’s where we need to go! To where the Soul Reapers live. But... where?” He paused, face brightening up; he pointed at the imposing wall. “Is that it, Yoruichi? The Seirei-place?”

Before Yoruichi could answer, he took off towards it. “Wait a second, Ichigo! We need to talk out a strategy fir--” Her words were cut off as everyone else ran after him. “No, come back! Have you lost your minds?”

A large opening came into view, showing a section of much nicer structures than the ones around them. However, when he reached it, a large gate crashed down. And a giant foot followed after.

Ichigo leaped back, hand shooting to his Zanpakutō. The man bearing down on him wore a shihakusho, so he must be a Soul Reaper. But he was massive. A living, breathing giant stood between them and the gate.

“What kind of creature is he?” Uryu asked, bafflement hanging in his voice. “No way he’s a normal human.”

“That’s Jidanbo Ikkanzaka, one of the four gatekeepers that guard the Seireitei,” Yoruichi answered, having caught up to them.

Jidanbo smiled, gaze sweeping over them as they came to a stop behind Ichigo. “I’m afraid I can’t let you pass,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to defend the gate from intruders. According to the rules of the Seireitei, I have to duel all of you separately. So who’s first?”

Ichigo pointed at himself with his thumb. “Me. There isn’t any need for you to worry about them. I’ll be able to defeat you.”

“So be it.”

With a hearty laugh, Jidanbo pulled out a giant axe and swung it towards them. Everyone jumped well away from it, and it crashed into the ground. The earth shook beneath their feet, stone rising from his attacks. A giant wall enclosed Ichigo and Jidanbo, separating them from the others.

“Kurosaki!” Orihime exclaimed, flying to the wall before the dust settled. “Are you alright?”

“I’m still alive and kicking. Don’t worry about me, Inoue,” Ichigo said, voice muffled by the stone between them. “Listen. I want you, Chad, and Tamiko to stay back. I’ll handle this fight alone.”

Uryu ran up, yelling, “What are you talking about, Kurosaki!?”

“Oh, you’re there too, Ishida?”

“I’ve been here the entire time!” He pounded against the wall. “What do you mean you’ll handle the fight alone? We can’t afford to waste time just standing around. It’ll be far more efficient to attack as a group!”

“Geez, you’re noisy... giving me a headache.”

Chad was the next person to talk to Ichigo, but Tamiko couldn’t hear him. She was too busy stifling a laugh, shoulders shaking.

A scowl was thrown at her. “And just what are you laughing about now?” Uryu asked.

“It wasn’t that long ago that you balked at the idea of fighting alongside Ichigo,” she said, smirking at him. “And now you’re insisting on it.”

“I only said that it would be more efficient to attack him as a group. There isn’t time to be fooling around with just one enemy. Especially one as big as him! You only have 13 days in order to execute your mission successfully, after all.”

Yes, that was true. But something about that bothered her. Did they have 13 days left? She glanced up at the sky, noting that it had to be late afternoon. What could have happened in order for them to go in in the middle of the night and come out in the middle of the day?

Her momentary distraction was broken as Uryu pounded on the wall again. “What do you mean you can ‘probably take him!?’”

“Shut up already.” Ichigo let out a loud, exasperated groan. “Just don’t worry about it.”

“As if I’m worried! I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get caught up in pointless scuffles!”

Tamiko put her hand against the stone. “You trained with Urahara. Right, Ichigo? Did he teach you some amazing new fighting techniques?”

“Not exactly.” His answer caused confusion to whirl in her mind. “I’ll tell you an interesting story. It was supposed to take me 10 days for my Soul Reaper powers to return. As it turned out, it only took five. So what do you suppose Mr. Hat-n-Clogs and I did during those other five days?”

“Goofing off, most likely,” Uryu mumbled under his breath.

“If you didn’t learn anything new...” She trailed off, hand brushing dirt off the wall. There was no question that Ichigo had gotten stronger. How has he gained his strength over the past several months? “You fought with him. One-on-one.”

Ichigo replied with a voice filled with smug confidence, “Exactly. We fought almost non-stop for five days and nights. In those long hours, I gained something more than mere fighting techniques. Tremendous strength and stamina.”

As if to prove his point, his reiatsu went through the roof. The wall teemed with it, her hand recoiling as if it had gotten hot. In her ears was the roar she had grown accustomed to hearing. The one she had missed while it was gone. A smile flickered on her face, hope surging through her from it.

Thus, the one-on-one fight began. There was nothing Tamiko and the others could do other than stand and listen to the grunts, swooshes, and clangs. Nothing but wait for the results of Ichigo’s training.

Movement flickered in the corner of her eye. Tamiko turned. A boy was grabbed by a balding, elderly man. He pulled him back into a decrepit building. For some reason, the boy looked greatly disappointed, but he hadn’t fought against the man.

A few faces poked around nearby corners, and Tamiko smiled at them. Before she could wave, they darted back into hiding. They truly were afraid of them, and she hoped to gain their trust.

Loud crashes jolted her back to the action. Tremors tore through the ground. The wall crunched, crumbling away. Someone snatched her arm, but she was already moving to get away from the raining rubble.

Thick clouds of dust billowed out from the crashing stone. She and Uryu turned just in time to watch it disperse. Ichigo--uninjured--appeared, standing before Jidanbo. The giant’s eyes were wide in amazement. His grip tightened on the axe he was brandishing.

“H-How can you still be standing?” he asked.

“It does seem impossible,” Uryu whispered, hand still clutching Tamiko’s arm.

Orihime moved into her peripheral vision, a relieved smile breaking out on her face. “But he’s alright...”

So it seemed that his training had paid off. Tamiko’s smile grew. Judging by Jidanbo’s reiatsu, he had to be as strong as Abarai was. If Ichigo could go toe to toe with the former, he may be able to handle any Soul Reaper.

He raised his Zanpakutō, pointing it at Jidanbo’s head. “Are you finished yet? Because it’s my turn now.”

Jidanbo lifted his free hand and reached into his shihakusho. “Oh, no. I’m far from done. I just need to bring out...” A second axe appeared, and he thrusted them above his head. “...more weaponry!”

“Another axe!” Uryu’s hand gripped her arm, and she flinched. He looked down, blinking as if noticing it for the first time. The hand leaped away to push up his glasses. “Forgive me, Kimura.”

“It’s okay.” Tamiko shrugged, tilting her head to the side. “You only wanted to keep me from being buried alive!”

“Yes. Of course.”

A strained groan from Jidanbo brought their attention back to the fight. “It’s time for my ultimate attack! See if you can survive Banzai Jidanda Matsuri!” He shoved the axes down in front of him, face turning red and sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“Sorry,” Ichigo said as he settled into an offensive stance, “but I can’t let you do that.”

With one hand, he swung the overgrown knife. The axes shattered, debris flying. Orihime called for Hinagiku, Baigon, and Lily yet again, and the three formed a shield between her, Chad, and the oncoming onslaught.

It couldn’t reach Tamiko and Uryu, and he darted in front of her. “Just stay behind me.”

“But...” Before she could get the protest out, a fragment landed squarely on his forehead. He stumbled backwards, her arms shooting out to catch him in case he fell, but he remained standing. “Uryu!”

“I’m fine.” He waved one hand while the other rubbed against his forehead. Already the injury was turning a nasty shade of reddish-purple, and a trickle of blood ran down between his eyes.

She stood on her toes to get a better look at it. “It winged you pretty good, though,” she said. Her hand reached out, and he leaned away. “Good thing we have a healer on our team. Orihime can get it all fixed up!”

He blinked at that, glancing over his shoulder at Orihime who was staring wide-eyed at the fight. “She can?”

“You bet!”

Orihime’s face broke out into a relieved smile again, and she exclaimed, “Kurosaki did it!”

Their attention snapped forward, to where Jidanbo laid on the ground. “How? He knocked that giant down?” Uryu asked, taking a step forward.

“He sent him flying.”

Jidanbo sat up, a hand running through his hair. “You almost got me that time.” He laughed heartily and stood. “Been a while since I’ve slipped and fell on my behind like that. Hey, what’s with the look? Did you believe you knocked me down? Ha! You should know bett...”

He trailed off, finally getting a look at what remained of the weapons he clutched. They were nothing more than a pair of handles. His head darted between them.

“Did Kurosaki destroy those axes in a single blow?” Uryu asked, voice filled with disbelief.

“I’d say he made some modifications,” Yoruichi said, a sense of pride in her tone.

Tamiko cupped her hands around her mouth. “Yeah, way to go, Ichigo! You sure showed that--” The massive tears forming in Jidanbo’s eyes cut her off.

“M-my axes!” he bellowed. His slamming fists sent cracks through the ground. “You destroyed them! My beautiful babies. Why!?”

“Is he... crying?” Uryu raised a brow. His mouth hung open. “That big, tough guy?”

The earth trembled not only from his slamming fists, but from his sobs. Jidanbo continued to lament the loss of his weapons.

Ichigo slowly sheathed his sword, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry about your axes. But I had to stop you from swinging them at me. Maybe I should’ve only destroyed one? My bad.”

“Y-you...” He looked up, snot dripping down along with his tears. Ichigo jerked his hands up. “...are such a good guy! Even though I’m your foe, you care about me. What a generous person you are!”

His hand fell on Ichigo’s shoulder. Even from the distance, Tamiko could see the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “I only wanted to console you, because of how much you were crying.”

“What a big baby I am, moaning over a couple of axes. I’m an embarrassment as a man.” Jidanbo rose and stretched his arms out. “I’m a total loser! You’ve not only defeated me as a warrior, but as a man as well! It’s been 300 years, and I’ve never allowed anyone through the White Road Gate. You’re the first to defeat me, spiky-hair. Therefore, I, Jidanbo, hereby grant you passage through the gate!”

Uryu strode up to him with Orihime and Chad close behind. After a brief hesitation, Tamiko followed. She frowned at the closed gate. Something felt off about how easily they were able to gain access.

Her hair stood on end and skin crawled. Even though she couldn’t sense a reiatsu, there was something--someone--waiting for them beyond that wall.

A scraping sound broke into her thoughts. She stepped closer, peering around Jidanbo’s massive form as he strained to open the gate. And sure enough, there was someone there. A man in a white haori, grinning at her like a fox that had just cornered his dinner.

Ichigo stepped a foot in front of her, leering at the man. “Jidanbo, who is that guy?”

“T-the captain of Squad 3,” Jidanbo gasped. “Gin Ichimaru.”

“Oh my,” Ichimaru purred, leaning forward. His eyes were nothing but slits, but they were clearly studying them. “Ikkanzaka. What possessed you to open the gate for these intruders?”

“I lost, so I had to open the gate. There was nothing I could do.”

He shook his head with a tsk. “Losing a battle doesn’t mean you allow the victor in,” he said, hand going to his sword. “When a gatekeeper loses, it means death.”

As fast as lightning, Ichimaru pulled his sword free. With a growing grin, he flew towards Jidanbo. The sword swung and sent Jidanbo’s arm flying.

Just before the deluge of blood could reach her, Tamiko was yanked away. Ichigo darted ahead. He raised his Zanpakutō, the cloth around it unraveling.

Screams arose, and something crashed. She glanced back to see the severed limb had crushed the nearby building, sending people to scurry onto the street. Blood, dust, and debris rained around them.

Tamiko squirmed, finding herself being held by someone. “Breathe, Kimura,” Uryu said, his hold loosening slightly. “Calm down.”

She took deep breaths, her pounding heart beginning to settle. It had happened so fast, and yet, so slowly at the same time. A tremble went through her, and she faced forward just in time to see Ichigo and Jidanbo flying away from the gate.

As it closed, Ichimaru leaned down. He put on a friendly smile that sent chills down her spine. “Bye, bye!~” he chimed with a wave.

The gate crashed shut, concealing him completely. It seemed getting into the Seireitei wouldn’t be so easy after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Judging by how deeply buried Jidanbo’s arm was, it should have taken several hours to dig it out from the rubble. However, it took less than one with help from Ichigo, Uryu, Chad, and Tamiko. Orihime stayed near Jidanbo, helping in getting him more comfortable.

While everyone managed to lift a board or two, Chad handled most of the heavy lifting. He carried mountains of boards on his shoulders to dump into a growing pile. Before long, the severed limb was pulled out and dragged back to its owner.

Orihime called on Shun’o and Ayame to begin the healing process. There were many gasps among the onlookers as the arm began to reattach itself.

“Amazing,” Uryu whispered, eyes wide in amazement. He dusted off his clothes. “She’s putting his arm back together. Something like that would normally take hours within an operating room.”

Tamiko tore her attention away from the scene and to his forehead. The injury he sustained earlier appeared to have stopped bleeding, but it certainly was purple. It hadn’t been attended to properly, smeared with blood and dust.

She shrugged off her bag and dug out the first aid kit. He jerked back when she touched it with an alcohol soaked cotton swab. “Kimura? Just what are you doing?”

“Cleaning your injury,” she said, reaching back up in vain as he turned his head away. Each attempt ended in the same result. “Aw, come on, Uryu. Orihime’s too busy at the moment to take a look at it. Besides, shouldn’t you rest? It looks like someone painted your forehead purple.”

“It’s fine. Looks worse than it actually is, and the bleeding stopped a while ago.”

“That may be true, but it still needs to be treated. Do you want to risk an infection in the middle of an important mission?” She put a hand on her hip, thrusting the swab into his face.

He sighed, snatching it from her. “Very well, but I’ll do it myself.” He gestured towards the people trying to clean Jidanbo’s blood from their faces. “If you want patients to treat, why not them? They seem to be in need of some help.”

For a moment, she watched them. No one appeared to be too badly injured, but a few flinched as they scrubbed themselves off. Somewhere, a child was crying. With one quick glance to Uryu, Tamiko took off towards them, first aid kit in hand.

She held it out, asking everyone she came to if they had any injuries. It only took a few minutes of darting between them for her to find a few patients. She treated the minor cuts and scrapes, relieved not to see any serious wounds. Somehow, they made it out of the building just in time.

When she thought she had finished treating everyone, an old man asked, “Excuse me, miss?”

Tamiko looked up to find an old man gently steering a young boy towards her. The first thing she noticed was the blood dripping down the side of the boy’s face, and she leaped straight into action, searching for the wound under his hair.

“I guess you were in the building when it fell in,” she mumbled, getting a small nod in response. “Any other injuries?”

He craned his neck to peer over her shoulder. “Just my head.”

“Stand still now, Yuichi,” the old man said softly. “Otherwise, she won’t be able to treat the wound properly. I know you’re anxious to see your friend, but I don’t think he’ll want to see you covered in blood.”

“I know.” Yuichi settled on the soles of his feet. “I swore I saw him a moment ago, but I lost sight of him somehow.”

At last, Tamiko found the wound and began to clean it. While she worked, she studied his face and then the old man’s. “Oh, I saw you two earlier. You were the boy running towards us.”

“Yes, that’s right,” the old man said. He squeezed Yuichi’s shoulder. “Introduce yourself properly, son.”

“Yuichi Shibata. It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He bowed politely, interrupting her work.

She returned the gesture before looking at the old man. “Tamiko Kimura.”

“And I am Ogi, Junrinan’s elder.” Once again, bows were exchanged. “I want to thank you for the kindness you and your friends have shown us. Please, come stay with me in my home tonight.”

Pressure landed on Tamiko’s shoulder, a whisker nearly poking her in the eye. She jerked slightly as Yoruichi bowed her head to Ogi. “We would be honored. I’ll be sure to inform everyone to meet up there later.”

“Ah, Lady Yoruichi!” he exclaimed. “I thought that was you. It’s been quite some time.”

“I believe a century has past since I was last here.”

Yoruichi was an old cat, apparently. Tamiko let the old friends catch up while she bandaged Yuichi’s wound. “Is this too tight?”

“No, it’s fine.” He ran a hand over it, glancing up at her with a shy smile. “Thank you!”

“Your friend. Is he someone I know?”

His smile grew, and he nodded vigorously. “You know him? Mister Sado?”

“Would you like me to take you to him?” She returned the expression.

After bidding Ogi farewell, they headed off to locate Chad. Yoruichi remained on Tamiko’s shoulder, her tail curling against her back. She was quiet, offering no explanation for her continued presence, and Tamiko didn’t question her.

Chad stood beside Ichigo, watching Orihime healing Jidanbo’s arm. Yuichi broke away from Tamiko and ran up to him, a beaming smile spread across his face.

“Mister!” he called, causing both Ichigo and Chad to look down at him. “Mister Sado! It’s me. Don’t you remember?”

“Yuichi Shibata?” Chad whispered.

Ichigo cast a quizzical expression in his direct. “Wait. You know this kid, Chad?”

“You should know him too.”

“That’s right!” Yuichi exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I was the cockatiel. You helped me pass on.”

Recognition lit up Ichigo’s eyes. “Ah, that’s right. Good to see you again! How you’ve been?”

“Aside from this, I’ve been fine.” He patted the bandage on his head, prompting Chad to kneel in front of him and check for any other injuries.

When he couldn’t find any, he hoisted him onto his shoulders. Yuichi began chattering about how he had been the one to help everyone get out of the building in time, having been the first person to see the incoming danger.

“You saved their lives,” Chad said, beginning to walk away. “Makes you a real hero.”

“Just like you!” Yuichi exclaimed, eliciting a small intake of breath from him.

Ichigo grinned after them, folding his arms. “That’s great. That Chad was able to see him again. What about you, Tamiko? Any sign of your sister?”

Now that he mentioned it, Tamiko began to scan the crowd for Machiko. Long black hair in a ponytail. Gentle green eyes. She saw some similarities, but no one with those exact traits.

“No,” she whispered, looking at the ground.

“I’m sure you’ll see her again soon. Don’t lose hope, Tamiko.” He patted her shoulder before walking towards Orihime.

Purring filled her ears. She reached up and patted Yoruichi’s head, and she leaned into the affectionate gesture. “Yoruichi, I’ve got a question.”

“Yes. What is it?”

“Do you suppose my sister could be here?”

Silence hung between them. Tamiko turned her head so that their eyes met.

Yoruichi lowered her head. “I’m afraid I don’t have a definite answer. When souls arrive, they are given a number, and that tells them which district to go to. There’s no guarantee that families will wind up together or even find each other. It’s likely that your sister may be in a different district, far from here.”

“How many districts are there?” she asked in a small voice.

“There are 320 districts in all, divided into 80 in each direction.”

All of the hope at a possible reunion drained away at those words. Machiko could be in any of them, lost within the sea of souls. Even if their grandparents managed to be there, she probably wouldn’t be able to find them.

‘I hope she’s not all alone,’ Tamiko thought, giving Yoruichi one last pat before lifting her off her shoulders and setting her on the ground. She straightened and watched people chatting and walking together. ‘No, she isn’t. She’s bound to have made some friends by now. But, she has to be missing me as much as I am her.’

“Don’t wander off too far!” Yoruichi called when she started to shuffle away. “We’re to meet in the elder’s home within a couple of hours to discuss a new strategy.”

She lifted a hand to signal she had heard. Two hours wouldn’t be enough time to get to the next district, if they’re any bigger than the ones in the World of the Living. And judging by the architecture and lack of power lines, there weren’t any trains or buses. Travel must be done on foot, unless one was lucky enough to own a horse.

Another thing she noticed was how scarce food appeared to be. Every merchant she passed only sold candy and dry goods for making clothes. At last, she came to someone selling fruits and vegetables, but they were shriveled and bruised in a couple of places--a few were even rotten.

Haggling with the merchant was a young woman. She seemed so old with sunken cheeks and dull eyes, but judging by the lack of wrinkles and gray hairs, she couldn’t be much older than Machiko. Her clothes were as shabby as the buildings surrounding them. In her hands were small coins--currency, but none that Tamiko could recognize.

Something else that stood out about the woman: She had reiryoku while everyone else around her didn’t.

After what seemed like an hour, the woman managed to purchase a couple of vegetables, handing over all of the coins she had. Even though she couldn’t determine their value, something told Tamiko those shriveled up zucchinis weren’t worth that much.

Clutching them as if they were more precious than gold, the woman ran off. As she disappeared around the corner, part of a zucchini disappeared into her mouth.

‘What did I just witness?’ Tamiko wondered, staring after her. ‘That woman... she was starving? But I thought people couldn’t get hungry in this world.’

She knew that people could die, Yoruichi explained during training. It was in order to keep the world in balance. Souls commonly died of injuries and illness, just like in the World of the Living. Except there was no realm beyond the Soul Society. Their souls simply entered into the cycle of rebirth, having no memory of the lives they once lived.

Apparently, starvation was another thing they could die of.

Tamiko stole a glance at the merchant. He was busy counting out the money. Nothing about him seemed pleased by the transaction, his eyes just as dull as the woman’s, but he appeared to be healthy. The coins were shoved into an empty sack that was tied back around his waist.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asked, finally noticing Tamiko. He eyed her warily, gaze drifting to her hands.

“Oh! I was just watching that transaction. Why could she only afford two of the smallest vegetables?”

The man folded his arms. “Because I only have a small selection of stock to sell. All of the best produce is shipped straight to the Seireitei.”

“But. She was starving...”

“I can’t just give produce away for free. Do you know how many hours it takes to even grow a single radish? I have workers to pay. Understand?”

Tamiko nodded to show that she did. Yes, she understood that much perfectly. Of course the Soul Reapers would have first dibs on the food that was grown. It aligned perfectly with everything else she knew about them.

“Except one thing,” she spoke up, meeting the man’s eyes. “I thought no one got hungry here.

“Only those with reiryoku need to eat,” he explained. “Now are you going to buy something or not?”

She shook her head, stepping away from his leer. “N-no. I don’t have any money.”

“Then move along. You’re blocking the stand for potential customers!”

With a hasty bow in apology, she sprinted away from the stand. There didn’t seem to be a line forming behind her, though. Now that she thought about it, she sensed tiny pockets of reiryoku aside from the ones surrounding her friends. In locating them, she found more people in shabby clothing. A lot of them were simply huddled deep within alleys, too weak to even lift their heads.

‘Machiko has a lot of reiryoku,’ Tamiko realized, darting away before one person could see her staring. ‘That could be her right there. Starving to death and unable to afford food.’

Despite the dark thought, her own stomach growled. She thought of the protein bars in her backpack and paused. Maybe she should hand them out? Give them to people who need them most.

Her heart shattered when she thought about her friends. Tears burned her eyes. What were they going to eat? Now that she knew how difficult it would be to procure food, they needed to hold on to what little they had. None of them had the money to replace it. Yoruichi certainly couldn’t have any hidden in her fur.

It was no wonder that she had reminded Tamiko to eat while she had access to good food. Now she was thinking about the large bento boxes that Sango had planned to make for the train ride. The memory only increased the level of guilt she felt. To get her mind away from it, she took to watching the other people. Those without reiryoku.

They seemed happy, despite the circumstances of their lives. Many people chatted and laughed. Others haggled with merchants to buy pieces of cloth or thread for only one or two coins. Any one who wasn’t preoccupied stared at Tamiko, and she waved to them. Only one or two waved back while others hurriedly went to the nearest person to whisper in their ear. Not everyone trusted them, it seemed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last rays of sunlight were dipping below the horizon by the time Tamiko found her way to Elder Ogi’s home. It was a larger building in comparison to its neighbors--likely that it held an extra room or two. However, it was in as desperate need of repair as everything else.

She put her hands on her knees to catch her breath, having ran straight there in fear of being late. That fear quickly alleviated when she could only sense one person with reiryoku within the home.

It was Orihime’s, and it felt significantly weaker than it had earlier. Tamiko stepped in to find her beside the hearth with Ogi. She stared into a cup of tea, face drawn and pale.

“Are you alright, Orihime?” she asked, sinking down on a cushion across from her. Without being prompted, the elder poured a cup of tea and slid it over.

Her exhaustion was pushed aside in favor of a smile. “Hey, Tamiko. And yes, I’m okay. It took over two hours, but I managed to get Jidanbo’s arm reattached. He’s still passed out because he lost a lot of blood, but he should be just fine.”

“That’s so great. Your power is something amazing!” The smile grew at the compliment. “So why isn’t everyone else here already? Yoruichi said that we were to meet here.”

Tamiko sensed Chad drawing closer, but Ichigo and Uryu were a bit further off. Seemed they were together for some reason.

“I don’t know. Kurosaki was the last person I saw. He brought me this tea and practically begged me to stop for the night.” Orihime held up the cup before taking a sip. “Yoruichi went to collect everyone, since they’re running so late.”

Judging by her complexion, Ichigo was definitely correct in stopping her. A tiny scratch or bruise was nothing compared to a severed limb.

‘We’ll have to be extra careful not to get too injured,’ Tamiko thought, blowing on her tea and taking a drink. ‘Wouldn’t want our only healer to overexert herself.’

Just as she opened her mouth to explain where Chad had been up to, he strode in and sat down. There was a faraway look in his eyes. He didn’t even notice the cup of tea Ogi handed to him. She wondered if he came to some of the same conclusions that she did. About the state of the Soul Society.

Buildings in ruin. Living in fear of the Soul Reapers. No one able to be reunited with loved ones. Starvation. People wearing rags in order to save enough for a rotten vegetable.

It certainly wasn’t heaven.

Tamiko glanced at Orihime, remembering that she had a brother who recently passed on. Would he have reiryoku? No way was she about to bring the subject up. Better for Orihime not to have to worry about her older brother potentially starving to death.

Ichigo’s mother also flashed through Tamiko’s mind. At how heartbroken he’d be to discover her in rags and sunken cheeks. Her hands tightened around the cup of tea.

That led her to think about Uryu and his family. Who knows where they were? No doubt they would be struggling for food as well. Along with any other Quincies that were there. She doubted they were given any special treatment after they had refused to cooperate. Assuming they had passed on when the Soul Reapers killed them.

Best not to bring up the subject with Uryu. And it may have already crossed his mind, for all she knew.

Speaking of him, his yelling voice leaked through the worn boards, “You’ve got to be the biggest moron I’ve ever seen!”

“Moron!?” Ichigo scoffed. “What’s so stupid about trying to find a weak point in the wall, anyway? Isn’t that a viable strategy?”

They walked into the house, nose to nose and glaring daggers at each other. “It’s a viable strategy for telling our enemies exactly where we are,” Uryu shot back. “What do you think would happen if we go barreling in? We’d get accosted by far too many Soul Reapers for us to handle. Not to mention possibly alerting one of the captains.”

“I could take ‘em!”

“Yes. Go ahead and fight the entire Seireitei. You won’t be receiving any help from me.”

“And I’ve already told you that breaking through the wall is physically impossible,” Yoruichi said before Ichigo could offer a retort. She glided in between them. “It’s made of a material called Sekkiseki, which negates all reiryoku. Including your Zanpakutō, Ichigo.”

“Then how are we supposed to get in?” Ichigo asked, folding his arms.

She gave him a sly smirk. “There’s a way,” she said and approached Ogi. “Elder, do you know the whereabouts of Kukaku Shiba?”

His eyes widened at the name. He leaned closer to her. “You can’t be serious. Don’t tell me you are planning to go through the wall like that?”

“Like what?” Orihime asked, turning to look at Yoruichi.

“You’ll soon see.” She kept her eyes on Ogi. “Please, you must have an idea of where her current residence is. Everyone I’ve asked has told me that you have the answer.”

His cup was set down with a tap. “I do, but I must...” He trailed off as a rumbling sounded from outside.

Ichigo and Uryu whirled around to face the door. The sound grew louder, gradually reaching the house. A sense of reiryoku hit Tamiko’s senses, and she jumped up. Could it be a Soul Reaper? But it was coming from the opposite direction of the Seireitei. And it couldn’t be any of the people she saw in rags. It was moving far too fast.

“What on earth is that noise?” Ichigo asked, hand moving to his sword’s hilt.

“Sounds like a stampede,” Orihime said, and one of her own hands went to a hair pin.

The sound came to a sudden halt. A pig snorted, and a man’s voice cried, “Wait. Don’t, Bonnie!” With a scream, he crashed through the door. He rolled and landed on his face at Ichigo’s and Uryu’s feet.

“What the...?” Ichigo let go of his Zanpakutō. There came another snort, and he looked up to watch a boar with a red ribbon step into the house. “What’s that doing here?”

While the boar nudging the man’s foot was certainly strange, it was only the tip of the iceberg. The man had reiryoku, but his clothes, while a bit dirty, weren’t shabby at all. He also looked perfectly healthy with strong muscles and clear complexion. It was clear he hasn’t missed any meals.

“Dang it, Bonnie,” he groaned, sitting up and running a hand over his face. “Did you have to throw me again? There has to be a better way to travel.”

“Ganju!” Ogi yelled, snapping up to his feet much quicker than his age should allow. “What are you doing here? Go home!”

“Aw, gramps. I came all this way to see ya, since I haven’t dropped by in a long time. I see you have guests. It’d be impolite not to intro...” As Ganju stood, he got a good look at Ichigo standing in front of him. His eyes narrowed into a glare, and he pointed right at his face. “What is this punk ass Soul Reaper doing here!?”

“What did you just say?” Ichigo mirrored his expression. His reiatsu sparked. The prelude to the inevitable fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the first chapter of the Soul Society arc is here! I am excited to finally be getting into this part of the story and all of the themes that come along with it.
> 
> I do have a few announcements to make. I have recently decided to open up commissions! If there's anything you'd like to see either within the world of Bleach or in another series, please, check out my blog on Ko-Fi that'll be linked below! It will tell you everything you need to know in order to commission a piece of written work from me. You can also follow me on Twitter for updates about this series and when chapters are going to be posted.
> 
> Finally, I've nailed down a proper release schedule for this series. It'll be every other Saturday unless I somehow finish a chapter early. I was putting too much pressure on myself to essentially finish two chapters a week. It was taking away my productivity, so I'm back to working on just one chapter at time like before.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/post/Writing-Commissions-N4N623YCY  
> https://twitter.com/ShonnaRoseS


	14. One Giant Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is only one way into the Seireitei. And it's Tamiko's worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Ganju asked in a mocking tone. He lightly patted Ichigo on the head. “You too dumb to understand me? Let me slow it down for ya. What. Is. This. Punk. As--”

Ichigo socked him with a left hook. He went flying against the wall, sending tremors through the structure. Straw rained down, and everyone instinctively covered their heads.

“Careful, Kurosaki! Are you trying to bury us?” Uryu yelled, pulling a pair of stalks from his hair.

He was ignored. Ichigo was focused completely on Ganju, who sprang up. A hand pressed against his swelling cheek. “Hey! Are you trying to pick a fight with me, you sniveling dandelion?”

“You started it, pig straddler! Coming in here and mocking me for no reason.” Ichigo pointed at him. “Just who in the hell are you?”

The question sent a wave of shock through his face. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know who I am?” He turned to everyone else in the room.

“Don’t look at me,” Uryu said with a push of his glasses. “I doubt I want to know.”

“I don’t have a clue,” Orihime said, smiling gently while Chad merely shrugged.

Tamiko raised her hand with a shy smile. “We’re new here,” she said. “Fresh arrivals straight from the World of the Living. And this ‘punk ass Soul Reaper’ is the one who guided us!”

Ichigo snapped towards her, a vein popping out on his head. “You better not get in the habit of calling me that,” he grumbled.

“Feh. Like I’m gonna fall for that,” Ganju said, folding his arms. “Everyone knows that Soul Reapers don’t escort people to the Soul Society. That’s what Hell Butterflies are for.”

With a shrug, Tamiko tilted her head to the side. “Either way, this is our first night here. It’d be impolite not to introduce yourself!”

A smirk spread across his face. “Ah, of course!” He planted a foot firmly on the floor, thrusting a thumb at himself. “The name’s Ganju. I’m the renowned fireworks expert in Junrinan! The universally acknowledged boss man as well as the number one Soul Reaper hater in all of Rukon!”

His introduction plunged the room into silence. He appeared to gain two inches in height, face aglow with pride. As if he expected them to awash him with praise and respect, but judging by everyone’s bemused expressions, it did the exact opposite.

Ganju was an absolute windbag.

And it did nothing to curb Ichigo’s temper. The vein grew twice its size. He crossed his arms, stepped up to Ganju, and said, “You forgot to say the world’s biggest idiot.”

“What did you say?”

From deep in his throat, Ganju growled and leaped on Ichigo. Uryu jerked back to keep from being toppled over by them. They rolled on the floor, hitting the other wall. Loose straw tumbled down.

“We should stop them,” Orihime said, eyes overcome with worry, “before someone gets hurt.”

“Or before they cause a collapse,” Uryu said, staring warily up at the rafters.

Tamiko followed his gaze, noting the tiny holes dotting the ceiling. She could see part of the moon through one. It was a good thing they were in one of the sturdier buildings, but each time they slammed into a wall, a shower of straw rained down.

“That’s enough!” Ogi snapped, stomping his foot. “If you two insist on fighting, then take it outside! The door’s wide open.”

As if they understood, Ichigo and Ganju managed to roll outside, disappearing into the street. Everyone but Ogi and Yoruichi ran to the doorway. Out of the corner of her eye, Tamiko saw her let out an exasperated sigh.

In the street, the two continued to grapple with each other. A dust cloud formed around them, billowing out and concealing the nearby houses. Shouting to Ichigo, the four made their way towards them.

Hooves pounded against the dirt road. Before they could get anywhere near the fight, four men pulled on reins. Their boars came to a halt, barring the way.

Like Ganju, the men had reiryoku and looked perfectly healthy. Each one had wildly different senses of style, one wearing a giant clock for some reason. Even their boars had styled hair. Where did they get the gel to keep those spikes standing?

The man with the clock smirked. “We’re not going to let you get in the boss man’s way, so that’s as far as you go.”

“But if you want to fight...” The bald-headed man trailed off, nodding to the man with an afro.

“...we’d be happy to oblige.”

“Ganju’s henchmen,” Uryu whispered, edging between them and the girls. “And they’re all riding boars?”

Tamiko tilted her head to the side, studying the group intensely. “I thought gangs rode on motorbikes. Talk about taking the term ‘hog’ literally.”

“We ride on boars because they’re cool,” the man on the far left said. He wore a pair of sunglasses even though the sun had fallen an hour ago. “I don’t know what a “motorbike” is, but I’ll bet a hog is way cooler!”

She straightened at that. He didn’t know what a motorbike was? He must have passed on before they were invented. It stood to reason that many of these souls died at vastly different times and places.

Blades clanged together. Tamiko stood on her toes in order to look over the shoulders of the henchmen. The rolling dust cloud was gone, and Ichigo and Ganju were up on their feet, weapons in hand. It was a dagger against a Zanpakutō. Not exactly a fair fight.

What a pointless brawl. Ganju wasn’t their enemy, as he wasn’t a Soul Reaper. He didn’t stand in their way from saving Rukia, because he didn’t even know who she was. Orihime was right. It needed to be stopped before someone got hurt.

“Shouldn’t you be helping your boss?” Tamiko settled back onto the soles of her feet. “What if he gets seriously injured?”

Afro man twisted towards the fight as Ganju backed off. “Nah, he can handle it. We don’t intrude on his battles against Soul Reapers. Especially since we hate ‘em too. Give him hell, boss!”

Ganju flashed him a thumbs up before going in low towards Ichigo. Oddly enough, he sheathed his dagger. The act caught Ichigo off guard, giving Ganju time to land at his feet, palms out in front of him.

“Seppa!” he exclaimed, and the ground beneath Ichigo transformed into sand. He sank into it, face alight with shock.

“Hey, what did you just do? I’m sinking!” No amount of jerking around helped to free him from the trap. It only made him sink faster.

A hearty laugh answered him. Ganju brushed his hands together, as if his job was finished. “That’s my special technique! Seppa allows me to change anything I touch into sand.”

“Well change it back!”

Before Ganju could offer a reply, an alarm blared. He whirled around, bellowing, “Gah! What time is it?”

“It’s nine, sir!” all four of his henchmen yelled in unison after staring intensely at the large clock.

“Your sister’s going to be mad!” the bald-headed man whined. He exchanged a frightened glance with his friends. They turned their boars and disappeared down the road.

“Aw, man. We gotta go, Bonnie!” Ganju placed his fingers into his mouth and emitted a high-pitched whistle.

Bonnie tore out of the house. She jumped over Uryu’s head, a hoof brushing against his hair. He flinched, yelling, “Watch it!”

She slammed straight into Ganju. He landed on his face again, but laughed it off. “I know you want to play, but there’s no time now. Hurry up and get me outta here.”

Once again, she rammed into him. Soaring through the air, he straightened and landed gracefully on her back. He gave her head an affectionate pat.

“Hey!” Ichigo yelled, yanking himself deeper into the sandpit. “Where do you think you’re going? We aren’t finished yet!”

Ganju flashed him a smirk. “Oh, I’m not running away. Just wait right there, and we’ll settle the score tomorrow. Try not to turn to fluff and blow away in the meantime!”

As he ran off into the night, Ichigo roared, “Stupid coward, get back here!”

Well, no one wound up seriously injured. Even with Ichigo embedded to his waist in sand. Everyone rushed over to help dig him out.

Uryu patted him on the shoulder. “If you ask me, that was a complete disaster.”

“Mark my words,” Ichigo growled, “I’m gonna kill that guy as soon as I find out who he is!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The straw was swept away, and the door returned to its hinges. After a plan and map were drawn out, bedding was spread out on the floor.

It was quiet. Outside, the insects sang their chorus. Their buzzing leaked through the walls, practically shaking the structure again.

Everyone settled on their futons. Orihime ran fingers through her hair. Some color has returned to her cheeks, but her eyelids drooped. Chad and Ichigo stared into the fire popping in the hearth, the latter keeping his arms folded. His Zanpakutō laid beside him. Uryu was in the process of neatly folding his mantle and tunic beside his pillow. Underneath, he wore a white long-sleeved shirt.

“You’re not going to take off that glove?” Tamiko asked, watching him closely. He responded by pushing up his glasses. “Isn’t your hand going to get all sweaty? It’ll reek!”

His tunic received a firm pat before he faced her. “What does it matter how my hand smells? I doubt anyone’s going to get close enough to know.”

Tamiko studied his hand. She leaned forward, putting the palms of her hands against the floorboards. The glove did have reiryoku around it, much like his cross did. Except far more concentrated, as if it would shock her if she touched it.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned with sleeping rather than my personal hygiene?” Uryu asked, hiding the hand underneath a blanket.

“Agreed. We have a long walk tomorrow,” Yoruichi said with a yawn. She sauntered over to a little bed Ogi had arranged for her and curled up. “We all need our sleep.”

Orihime’s eyes snapped open. “But what about food?”

“I have some!” Tamiko chimed, casting a bright smile towards her.

“Really? I’m starving!”

Just before Tamiko could toss her a protein bar, Yoruichi jumped up and yelled, “Stop!”

“Huh?” She turned towards her, the clutched bar frozen in the air.

“It would be wise to save them for the morning. They would be wasted if we were to eat them now. We’ll need the energy to make it to Kūkaku’s. Do you understand?”

The bar lowered into her lap. She studied it before nodding. Yes, she suppose she understood. If they were to eat now, they’d only be hungry again in the morning and would need to eat again. Best to conserve as much as they could. Especially if the person they were going to see, Kūkaku Shiba, didn’t have the food to offer them.

Tamiko swallowed, not wanting to entertain such a thought. No way would they starve before they were inside the Seireitei. Likely Yoruichi knew how to access food, even if they had to hunt for it.

‘We could always find where Ganju’s gang got their boars,’ she thought, slipping the bar back into her backpack. She eyed Ichigo’s blade. ‘We do have an overgrown butcher’s knife, after all.’

She set aside the bag and undid her ponytail. With a flop, her head landed on the pillow, eyes fixating on a hole in the ceiling where a single star shone. It was just like in the World of the Living. The stars, moon, and sun. All turning along with the earth.

“Yoruichi,” she said, “something’s been bugging me ever since we landed.”

A sigh answered her. “Can’t it wait until morning?”

“No. It’s going to keep me awake.”

“What is it?”

Propping herself up on an elbow, Tamiko peered back at the pair of glowing eyes. “We went into the Senkaimon in the middle of the night. And yet, we came out in the late afternoon. Why? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I’ve been wondering that myself,” Uryu spoke up. “We were in the Dangai less than four minutes. There’s no way we could have been in there for over 12 hours. Unless the Soul Society has a time difference compared to our world.”

“Huh? That didn’t cross my mind. I guess it would make sense for different dimensions to run on different clocks. Is that it, Yoruichi?”

The glowing eyes disappeared briefly. “When someone comes into contact with the kototsu, it leads to death. I’ll spare the horrifying details, but it has an effect on the body’s time flow. Because it hit the Shun Shun Rikka’s shield, it sent us back in time.”

The entire room exploded in exclamations of shock. Questions were lobbed at her from every angle, and she yowled at them until they ceased.

“It can’t be too far back,” Chad said when everyone had recovered. “Because Yuichi is here. He passed on in June.”

“As luck would have it, we were sent back a week. To August 1st.”

Tamiko jumped up, fists rising up. “Great! We have more time. An extra week in order to rescue Rukia before her execution. That’s...”

“Twenty days,” Yoruichi finished for her. “It’s funny, because I thought the kototsu chasing us was rotten luck, but it worked out in our favor.”

It was the best news yet. Tamiko beamed at the ceiling before settling back under the covers. Surely they could get Rukia out of the Soul Society in 20 days.

‘But then what?’ she wondered. ‘Won’t they keep chasing her until she’s put to death?’

She thought about Urahara. He was orchestrating the entire mission, supplying them with the power and means to execute it, so maybe he had a plan for when they returned. Rukia had mentioned that he was working outside Soul Reaper law. Who was he, and why exactly was he so invested in Rukia’s life? The questions haunted Tamiko as she drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Preparations for the day went by in a blur. Before she knew it, Tamiko stood outside of Elder Ogi’s house, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She expelled a long, drawn out yawn.

“You didn’t get enough sleep, huh?” Orihime asked with a soft smile.

“Kind of hard to, when you’re dragged out of bed before the sun,” she mumbled, shifting the weight of her backpack.

That and waking up in the dead of night with her heart pounding and clothing sticky with sweat. A nightmare, but of what? Thankfully, she hadn’t disturbed anyone. She wasn’t sure how long it took her to calm down and go back to sleep, but it felt as if she hadn’t slept at all.

Orihime, on the other hand, was absolutely glowing with energy. All of the color had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Tamiko managed a tired smile. “Looks like you slept pretty good. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks to your protein bar. I’m all rearing to go!” She held up her fists. “I can’t wait to meet this Kūkaku Shiba. I wonder what kind of cat they’ll be. An American short hair, maybe? Or a fancy persian with pedigree papers?”

“What makes you think they’ll be a cat? They could be a talking dog! Like a dalmatian.”

“That would be amazing!”

Uryu looked back and forth between them and pushed up his glasses. “I hope not. It defies all logic for there to be even one talking animal.”

“I think we’re beyond logic at this point,” Tamiko said, pointing her finger towards his still purple forehead. “Considering that we’ve traveled back in time, encountered a giant, and met a boar gang. At this point, I expect pigs to fly through the sky!”

“Just because they’re Yoruichi’s friend,” Chad pointed out, “doesn’t mean they’ll be like her.”

“I agree,” Uryu said, folding an arm over his chest. “With a name like ‘Kūkaku Shiba,’ it makes sense that we’re dealing with some old hermit.”

“Who says a talking animal couldn’t also be an old hermit?” Tamiko asked with a grin.

He stared at her, brows creasing in thought. A hand went to his chin, and his eyes drifted to the ground. “I hadn’t thought of that...”

“Looks like she got you there.” Yoruichi chuckled and jumped onto Tamiko’s shoulder. She was met with a scratch behind the ear.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the birds chirp. Something was missing. Or rather, someone was missing. Ichigo has yet to walk out of the house.

Tamiko leaned forward to see past Uryu. “What’s taking Ichigo so long? Is he in there polishing his Zanpakutō?” A cheeky grin snaked its way onto her face.

“I’ll go get him,” Uryu volunteered, not seeming to have noticed the expression. He strode to the house, and she followed close behind. “It’s just like him to keep us all waiting like this.”

“Says the boy who arrived last because he had to cosplay as a monk.”

He gave her a perplexed look. “You know full well that this is traditional Quincy attire. It is not mere cosplay.”

“I’m just saying that you’d fit in well at a games convention.”

She burst out laughing at his glare and ran on ahead. The time spent talking and laughing with her friends has restored her energy.

“Come on, Ichigo!” she chimed, coming to a halt beside him. He sat beside the hearth, where he had plunked himself down when he woke up. “Everyone’s ready and waiting.”

He didn’t look up from his staring contest with the ashes. “Just go on ahead. I’m going to stay here until that pig rider guy comes back.”

“What?” Uryu promptly yelled. “You’re seriously going to waste time sitting around just so you can fight?”

“There’s plenty of time. You heard Yoruichi last night. We have twenty--”

“Nineteen,” he cut in.

“Fine. Nineteen days to rescue Rukia. Plenty of time for me to settle the score and catch up with everyone.”

Tamiko exchanged a glance with Yoruichi, who’s eyes glinted with impatience. They may have managed to gain some extra time, but it was still limited. And who knew if circumstances were to change? It wasn’t worth the risk.

So she smacked her head against his forehead. He jerked back, eyes wide in surprise. “Ow! What was that for, Tamiko?”

“We’re not here to get into street brawls with random strangers. Our mission--our _only mission_ \--is to rescue Rukia. Do _you_ want to be the one to explain to her why we took so long to save her?”

He appeared to consider her words. The sword was picked up and returned to his back as he stood. “Alright, let’s get going. But if we happen to find that guy on the way, I’m gonna beat him to a pulp.”

Yoruichi slowly shook her head at his words. “Now isn’t the time to be picking meaningless battles, Ichigo. We may have gotten a lucky break, but that can change in the blink of an eye.” She hopped off Tamiko’s shoulder and stalked towards the door. “If we want this mission to be successful, we cannot let anger get the best of us. Best you learn this lesson now before we’re in the thick of enemy territory.”

No doubt Ichigo had the same thought Tamiko did, as they both turned to Uryu. He pushed up his glasses. “And why are you two looking at me like that?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” she remarked, putting her hands behind her neck. She gave him a knowing smirk.

“Seems like if anyone needs to learn that lesson, it’s you.” Ichigo folded his arms, stepping past him to follow Yoruichi.

Uryu strode briskly until he was ahead of him. “As if. I wasn’t the one stubbornly holding us up a moment ago. And have you already forgotten? I’m only here to prove my strength as a Quincy. Nothing more.”

“Then why don’t you go find your own way into the Seireitei? You don’t have to go along with us.”

“Because you heard Yoruichi,” Uryu said with a quick glance behind his shoulder at Tamiko, “we cannot burst through the wall. _And_ , the Soul Reapers will be expecting us to try the other gates. They’ll be heavily guarded. Going along with the current plan is the only reasonable strategy I have.”

Tamiko sprinted behind them, taking the glance as a sign she should hurry up. She giggled softly as their banter continued. It was a vast improvement over the tension that had been between them before. Even though they argued, their pressures stayed level. No plummeting temperatures whatsoever.

Good. The last thing they needed was to be fighting among themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rolling farmland stretched out before them. People were peppered within the fields, either harvesting food or pulling weeds. They stopped in their work long enough to stretch and watch the procession go by.

Tamiko studied them, even turning her head to keep them in her vision for as long as possible. Some did have reiryoku, and they were much thinner than their co-workers who didn’t. But they appeared to be in better health than the ones she saw in the village. Maybe they got a meal or two as payment for work? It felt like wishful thinking, though.

Once they were nothing more than dots in the distance, she faced forward and quickened her steps to catch up with Yoruichi. “Why don’t the Soul Reapers do something about the starvation outside of the Seireitei?”

Her question caused everyone to halt.

“Wait. There are people starving in this world?” Ichigo asked, brows furrowing. “I thought Rukia said that no one got hungry here.”

“It is only those with reiryoku that feel the effects of hunger,” Yoruichi informed, tail flicking downward.

Orihime lowered her shoulders, eyes glazing over with sadness. “How terrible,” she whispered, and Chad grunted in agreement. “Why do they ignore it, Yoruichi?”

Uryu scoffed loudly, drowning out any possible explanation. “After seeing the state of Junrinan, can any of you say you’re surprised?” he asked, putting down the map directing them to Kūkaku’s. “It’s obvious that they could care less about the citizens of Rukon. They’ll never lift a finger to--”

“Now hold on!” Yoruichi yowled, cutting him off. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Before you make assumptions, you should listen to what I have to say first. Yes, it’s true that about nine percent of the population are suffering from malnutrition.”

Ichigo put a hand on his chin, mumbling, “Only nine? How many people are there in Rukon, anyway?”

“It’s dependent on how many people in the World of the Living die. About two thousand per day.”

Tamiko rubbed her head, not able to comprehend the mathematics necessary to figure out how many people were starving. She frowned at a footprint in the dirt. “But not all of them have reiryoku...”

“Correct, and those that do have an opportunity,” Yoruichi continued. “Shin’o Academy, the school for Soul Reapers, is free to enroll. All one needs is to demonstrate their aptitude at using reiryoku. They are fed and given housing. But they’re expected to join the Thirteen Court Guard Squads upon graduation. It’s a lifelong commitment.”

“Some opportunity,” Uryu retorted, snapping and studying the map. “Join the military or starve to death.”

What a bum deal. Having to join the system mistreating them. Tamiko thought about Machiko, who disliked violence. She would never join an army, even if it meant starvation.

“It isn’t ideal, I’ll admit,” Yoruichi said, breaking through her worries. “But it is a way to keep people from starving to death. And Squads 7, 8, 9, and 13 regularly divert their food shipments to be distributed to the districts with the most need, and they are constantly imploring the other squads to do the same.”

Pity. That was the only reason they did anything, and Tamiko shook her head at it. They could--should--do more. Why don’t they? She held back the question as Yoruichi directed them to continue moving.

“Our goal isn’t to solve the Soul Society’s problems,” she said, tail snapping back and forth while she walked. “It’s to save Rukia Kuchiki. Don’t forget that.”

The trek resumed in a somber silence. They moved out of farmland and into rolling hills. Not a person could be seen or sensed beyond their group.

Hours drifted by, the sun climbing higher. It beat down on them, and the temperature steadily climbed. Tamiko glanced at the sky, noting that there were only white, fluffy clouds floating above. No sign of rain. Perfect weather for a journey, but little relief from the sun’s warmth.

Wiping the sweat off her brow, Tamiko took in the status of her friends. Sweat also beaded on Chad’s head, and he pushed a damp curl of hair from his forehead. Orihime waved a hand in front of her face. Neither Ichigo nor Uryu showed any physical signs of discomfort, but Ichigo’s glare at him intensified.

“Are you sure this is the right way, Ishida?” he asked. The only answer he received was the rustling of the map. With a low growl, he jolted forward to grab his shoulder. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

“I heard you the first time.” Uryu returned the expression, wrenching himself free. “And there’s no need to grab me like that. We’re going the right way, according to Elder Ogi’s map. If you’re not happy with the way I’m guiding us, then here!”

The map was thrusted into Ichigo’s hands. He stared at it for a moment and then looked around at their surroundings. His glare gradually transformed into a blank look, and he pushed the map back. “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to make you feel inadequate by getting us there faster.”

A look of pure murder crossed over Uryu’s face. The map bunched up in his fists. His reiatsu spiked, energy gathering around the glove. Chills bristled her hair, and Tamiko raced to step between them.

“Why don’t we take a break?” she asked and pointed to the nearest tree. “Sit in the shade and drink some water?”

“Yes, a break sounds nice. I’ll get a good look at our surroundings and gauge how much further we have left to go.” Yoruichi darted for the tree and disappeared within its branches.

Uryu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. While everyone settled into the grass under the tree, he remained standing just inside the shade’s perimeter.

Tamiko dug out the bottles of water, discovering that she had only managed to fit in three. “Looks like we’ll have to share,” she said with a nervous chuckle, holding the bottle out to no one in particular.

“S-share?” Ichigo and Uryu asked in unison. They looked horrified and pointed at each other. “No way am I sharing with him!”

Ichigo shook his head and looked around. He even leaned to look behind the tree. “Aren’t there some cups or something we could use?”

“If there were, I don’t expect them to be stored there,” Tamiko said, her nervous chuckle evolving into a giggle. “Aw, don’t be so nervous about it. We’re all healthy. Just don’t slobber all over the bottle.” She unscrewed the lid and held the bottle out to Ichigo.

He took it with a sigh. “I’ll try not to.”

The bottle passed to Orihime. Her cheeks tinted pink as she took a drink. She handed it to Chad, who took a swig without batting an eye. It returned to Tamiko, and she stood. She took and held the bottle out to Uryu, but he didn’t glance up from the map. “Have you had a drink yet?” he asked.

“No. Not yet.”

“Then do so. I can drink last.”

With everyone hydrated, Tamiko sat herself down beside Uryu. Yoruichi joined them, landing on his shoulder. He jerked up, eyes going wide at the cat’s presence. Tamiko snickered at him, earning a brief leer. When Yoruichi pointed out something on the map with her paw, he relaxed.

“Here’s some good news,” he said after their discussion about their path ended. The map folded and returned to his tunic. “Yoruichi says we should be close.”

She nimbly leaped down. “While I was surveying the area, I caught a glimpse of her house. Kūkaku may move around a lot, but the building always has a similar look to it. You will know it when you see it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ichigo asked, rising to his feet.

She lifted a paw to her face and winked at him. “Just you wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, Yoruichi was right. It was unmistakable who the strange structure before them belonged to. The giant banner, held by two arm statues, screamed ‘Kūkaku Shiba’ in giant letters. A chimney towered over it, but it was sealed off. The group stared, amazed in many different ways.

Orihime’s eyes let up. “It’s amazing!”

Chad grunted, expression unchanging. It was hard to tell what he thought of it, but his eyes moved to study every inch.

“What kind of a person would want to live in a house like that?” Ichigo asked, mouth hanging open.

Uryu looked equally horrified, face slightly pale. His hand went over his mouth. “Well whoever they are, it’s no wonder they don’t live in town. Just look at that eyesore!”

“I don’t know what the problem is.” Tamiko howled with laughter. “That’s got to be the best house I’ve ever seen! That’s one way to let people know they have the right place.”

“So the banner’s held up by two giant human arms this time. It’s quite clever.” Yoruichi’s voice was tinted with humor.

“That’s one way to describe it,” Uryu mumbled, adjusting his glasses.

As they drew closer to the house, two figures, perched on each fist, stood. They dropped down, blocking the door. Both men were nearly identical, save for a few differing features: their faces and the color of clothing they wore. Even their names were slightly similar, as they introduced themselves as Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko.

Tamiko studied them, nothing their reiryoku and muscular appearances. They definitely had plenty to eat. Once more, there was more energy teeming below them. A whole household filled with people that needed to eat. Not only that, but some of it felt oddly... familiar.

She was snapped away from her thoughts, the two men exclaiming, “Lady Yoruichi! Of course, please come in!”

The two guards bowed to Yoruichi. Bowing to a cat. And they referred to her as ‘Lady,’ just like Elder Ogi had. While they led them through the door and down a long staircase, Tamiko watched her. Other than the ability to speak, she seemed like any other black cat.

‘She must have been human once,’ she thought. ‘Somehow, she became trapped within the body of a cat? But they recognize her.’

Before she could ask any questions, they were stopped in front of a door. A person sat beyond, their reiryoku calm and intrigued.

“Master Kūkaku, we have visitors,” Koganehiko said, bowing his head.

A woman’s voice answered, “You may enter.”

The door slid open, revealing a young woman lounging on a pile of cushions. She took a long drag off a pipe, smirking at the group filing into the room. A puff of white-gray smoke blew out, and she sat up, her prosthetic arm shifting from her stomach to her lap. “Yoruichi, it’s been a while. And you’ve brought a bunch of brats with you. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I shall explain everything, but there’s a favor I must ask of you.”

“Isn’t that always your excuse for looking me up?” She set the pipe down on a small plate, the smirk widening. “I take it that it’ll be something dangerous.”

“Most likely.”

She chuckled at the response. “Then tell me everything, Yoruichi, while your friends make themselves at home.”

The plan was laid out before Kūkaku. A plan to rescue a Soul Reaper from execution and return her to the World of the Living. When Urahara’s name was mentioned, a serious expression drew itself over her face.

“He’s sent a bunch of kids to rescue her?” she asked, eyes sweeping over the group.

“They may look young, but they have potential,” Yoruichi said, glancing over her shoulder. “I have no doubt that they’ll be able to accomplish this mission, but in order to do so, they need your help getting into the Seireitei.”

Kūkaku studied them, brows creasing together. Her eyes settled on Tamiko before jumping to Yoruichi. The smile returned. “Lucky for all of you, I enjoy danger. And with Urahara involved, I suppose I have no other choice. Hell, I’ll take the job.”

“Excellent!” Yoruichi exclaimed, ears and tail twitching.

“I do have one condition, though.” Kūkaku stood and strode over to another door with a hand on her hip. “You see, I don’t trust these kids accompanying you just yet. So I’m going to send a minion to keep an eye on them.”

Yoruichi’s head followed her. “A minion?”

“I like to call him that, but he’s actually my goofy kid brother. Not all that useful, but a lot more reliable than his gang of friends.” Kūkaku stopped in front of the door and knocked on it. “Hey, are you ready?”

“Yeah, sis,” came a man’s voice. That _voice._ That _reiryoku_. The group stiffened, transfixed on the door.

“Alright, you better behave yourself.”

She slid it open, revealing Ganju in a much cleaner, nicer outfit. He knelt on the floor, head bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you! My name is Ganju Shiba. Pleased to be at your service.”

He lifted a smile. His eyes gradually grew wider until they were sure to roll out of his head. A finger rose, mirroring the one Ichigo held up. “You!” they shouted in unison.

They charged, colliding into each other in the center of the room. Like the night before, they rolled around, attempting to grapple the other into submission.

Tamiko glared at them, fists clenching. She jumped and stormed up to them. “Come on, Ichigo! Don’t you remember what Yoruichi said this morni--” A fist jumped out, jamming her in the nose. Blood gushed, and she landed square on her back.

Three voices and pairs of feet rushed towards her. She blinked open her eyes and was greeted with Uryu, Orihime, and Chad, hovering over her. They stepped back as she sat up, holding her bleeding nose.

Ichigo and Ganju were statues, each with the other in a headlock, heads turned towards her. At the sight of blood oozing between her fingers, they let each other go. They moved into kneeling positions, expressions softening.

Through watery eyes, she resumed her glare. “There isn’t time to be starting petty fights! We have a friend whose life is on the line.”

“My hatred towards Soul Reapers isn’t petty,” Ganju said, returning the expression. “My bro--”

“Ganju!” Kūkaku roared, cutting him off.

He stiffened and bowed his head. “Point is, Soul Reapers are despicable people, and I have every right to hate ‘em.”

“By that as it may...” Tamiko trailed off to take a handkerchief Orihime handed her and hold it to her nose. “It’s petty to take your anger out on someone who wasn’t involved. And we need your help getting into the Seireitei. So won’t you please help us?”

His head lifted until his eyes met hers. “Well, since you asked so nicely... of course I’ll help. You can count on the great Ganju Shiba!” The cocky grin returned, but disappeared at her wince. “Oh. Hey, I’m sorry about your nose. Is it broken?”

Ichigo leaned forward, concern pouring from his face. “Yeah. Are you okay, Tamiko?”

“Let me see,” Uryu said, gesturing for her to move her hands away. He gently examined the injury, the tip of a finger brushing against the bridge of her nose. “No, it doesn’t appear to be broken. Whoever punched her had a weak punch.”

“A weak punch?” Ichigo and Ganju yelled in unison. Their glares directed at him. “Why you...”

Before they could leap on him, Kūkaku stepped in between. “Enough of this crap already. The girl has a point. You have to set aside your anger and help them, Ganju. If you can’t...” Her foot lifted up and slammed into Ganju’s head, bringing his face into the floor.

“Got it, sis,” he mumbled into the floorboards.

“Follow me, if you know what’s good for you,” she said, stepping off him and towards the door. As she passed Tamiko, she smirked. She patted her roughly on the back. “That took guts, kid. Now I think I understand why Urahara would choose someone so small for such a dangerous mission. You’re tougher than ya look.”

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. “T-thank you. I just did what needed to be done.”

“And that took real courage. You’re going to need it for what’s ahead.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark. If it hadn’t been for the light from the hallway, no one would be able to see an inch above their noses. The light illuminated a large cylinder shooting up through the ceiling. Kūkaku walked up to and patted it with pride.

“You don’t have to worry about goin’ through the wall,” she said, facing the group with fire in her eyes. “With this, I’ll get you into the Seireitei through the air! Or my name’s not Kūkaku Shiba, fireworks expert of Junrinan!”

Those words stopped her heart. Tamiko lifted her head, remembering the chimney from before. It was a cannon. And she didn’t like the implication of Kūkaku’s plan. She gulped, her legs shuddering beneath her.

“Alright, Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko, raise it up!” Kūkaku shouted upward, hand cupping her mouth.

The floor rumbled and shook, lifting up. Daylight poured in through the opening ceiling. Knocked off balance, Tamiko toppled towards the side. A large pair of hands caught her shoulders before she could get anywhere near the floor.

“Are you alright?” Chad asked, steadying her. “You’re shaking.”

She forced a grin, squeaking, “Y-yeah. We’re all shaking. Including the floor!”

“You’re pale too.”

Just as she opened her mouth to laugh it off, the floor came to a halt. It was now a platform within an open area behind the house. The tree line laid several feet away, forming a half circle around the property.

“So did that scare you kids?” Kūkaku asked, directing their attention to her. She smirked, holding what appeared to be a glass ball with a crane emblem on it. “Left you all speechless, didn’t it?”

“I understand you’re supposed to be a pyrotechnical wizard,” Uryu said, adjusting his glasses, “but I’m not convinced this will work. How is shooting us up into the air supposed to get us--”

His question was cut off, the ball slamming into his face. It bounced off and landed into Ichigo’s hands. Orihime rushed to check on Uryu, and Tamiko took a step to do the same. But her legs wobbled beneath her, making her grateful for Chad’s sturdiness keeping her up.

“What’s this?” Ichigo asked, turning the ball in his hands.

Kūkaku put a hand on her hip. “It’s a reishukaku. Just place your palms on it and concentrate your reiryoku. That’ll create a cannonball around you.”

He nodded, gripping it like a basketball player preparing to score a goal. His teeth gritted together, sweat breaking out on his forehead. A strained grunt leaked out, but that was all. None of his reiryoku went anywhere near the ball in his hands. “Uhh... can someone tell me how to concentrate my reiryoku?”

“Y-you can’t be serious. Any Soul Reaper should be able to do it without thinking!”

Yoruichi stepped forward, tail brushing against the floor. “In being a substitute Soul Reaper, he never had the proper training. He can’t utilize his energy at all.”

“Geez. What a hopeless kid...”

“Here, I’ll show ya,” Ganju said, reaching for the reishukaku.

Ichigo yanked it out of his reach. “No way! I’d rather die than learn it from you.”

Each attempt Ganju made for the ball ended in Ichigo pulling it away from him. It evolved into them running across the platform, firing off insults at each other. Tamiko sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. At least they provided a nice distraction. Her legs grew still.

When they reached Kūkaku, she swung her fist, punching them both in the head. “Cut the crap and just let him show you how to do it!” she yelled at Ichigo.

Without a word, the reishukaku was tossed to Ganju. He caught it with one hand. A cocky smile appeared. His reiryoku poured into the ball, and a giant blue orb surrounded him.

“This is the cannonball,” Kūkaku said, rapping a knuckle against the orb. It sounded like solid, thick glass. “Since the wall around the Seireitei is made out of a reiryoku rejecting material, you’ll need this. It’s made of a hard spiritual partition penetration device that I invented. If everyone combines their reiryoku, it’ll create a cannonball that can break the barrier surrounding the Seireitei. Any Questions?”

Everyone exchanged bewildered looks. Uryu had a new red mark on his face from the reishukaku, but otherwise appeared unharmed. He and Ichigo both raised their hands and opened their mouths, but Kūkaku turned to Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko. “Good. Take them to the training room so they can practice concentrating their reiryoku.”

The two guards gathered everyone up. Ichigo and Uryu--with a lot of yelling and squirming--were slung over their shoulders while Tamiko and Orihime were gently scooped up. There was no room for Chad to be carried, so they ordered him to simply follow.

“One last thing, you guys!” Kūkaku called after. “If any of you lose concentration, you’ll be blown up on the spot! So practice hard!”

“B-blown up!” Tamiko exclaimed in unison with Ichigo and Uryu. Her heart stopped beating again, and she trembled against Shiroganehiko’s grip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were going to be blasted out of a cannon. The image wouldn’t leave Tamiko’s mind as she clutched a reishukaku of her own. Ganju had passed them out so everyone could practice at the same time. He walked through the group, monitoring their progress. Uryu’s cannonball was too narrow. Chad’s was unstable. Orihime outshone them, creating a perfect orb on her first try, but sweat formed on her head after only a couple of seconds of holding it.

“Practice makes perfect,” Ganju said to them, rubbing the back of his head. “At least you three managed to grasp the concept. No clue what’s holdin’ him back.”

He thrust his thumb in Ichigo’s direction. He looked like he was trying to smash the reishukaku in his hands. Veins popped out on his head, his teeth grinding together. Every muscle in his body tightened up.

Tamiko hugged her orb and giggled lightly. “Hey, Ichigo, do you need a laxative over there?”

“W-what?” He nearly dropped the ball from his body jerking towards her.

While everyone awkwardly turned away from the scene, Ganju exploded with a hearty laugh. “Oh, yeah,” he said, hands going to his hips. “I think we’ve got a root that can clear you right out in seconds, Ichigo!”

“I’m not constipated!” Horror encompassed his face, sending Tamiko to howl with laughter. He glared in response. “I’ve been trying to make this stupid ball work. Which I almost did before you broke my concentration.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Tamiko said with exaggerated shrug, “but you haven’t come anywhere near putting your reiryoku into that ‘stupid ball.’”

“Like you can tell!”

“Actually, I can. Been able to sense reiryoku inside people’s bodies for a while now. Yours is stuck right in your middle. Right at your intestines.” She pointed with a teasing smile.

His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. He settled onto his heels, pointing back at her reishukaku. “Have you even tried doing it yet? How can you criticize me if you haven’t done it yourself?”

Her arms wrapped around the ball, face growing hot. “W-well. I...”

“What do you know? The Soul Reaper actually said something intelligent,” Ganju remarked, stepping over to Tamiko. He crouched in front of her, ignoring the insults being hurled at his back. “Alright, let’s see your cannonball. Someone who claims to have a knack for sensing reiryoku should be able to do it.”

“R-right. I can. It’s just...”

“Hm?” He leaned closer, raising an eyebrow.

Them being blasted out of the cannon played through her mind again. She clenched her eyes shut, hugging the reishukaku tighter. Within her imagination, they shot up only to explode and crash straight to the ground. They had been lucky before with Orihime able to use her shield to catch them, but something told Tamiko it wouldn’t be possible if they were blown to pieces first.

Just as a soft whimper shook through her, a hand landed on her head. She opened her eyes to see Ganju’s cocky grin.

“Now listen closely... uh...” His gaze drifted up in thought. “You know, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I-it’s Tamiko. Tamiko Kimura.”

“Ah! Listen closely, Tamiko. You see, you’ve got the number one cannonball expert Ganju Shiba on your side. That means nothing can go wrong. Just as long as you guys do your part in keeping the cannonball stable, and you can’t do that unless you practice. So keep your mind focused on your reiryoku and nothing else. You let me worry about keeping us up in the air. Think you can do that?”

“Y-yeah.”

He ruffled her hair with an even bigger grin. “Then show me whatcha got!”

She shakily stood to her feet along with him. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes to focus on the warm reiryoku within her. But she imagined them falling again. She shook her head, diverting her attention towards the others she could sense within the room. Uryu’s cool, rain scented reiatsu. Orihime’s delicate reiryoku, contrasting the strong, sturdy energy within Chad. Ichigo’s balled up energy, almost making her laugh again. Even Ganju’s, though fiery like an explosive, was also sturdy.

“Wow, you did it, Tamiko!” Orihime exclaimed, breaking into her thoughts.

Tamiko blinked to find a stable, light yellow orb around her. She smiled at everyone else before facing Ganju, who was nodding his approval.

“Not bad,” he said. “Seems the girls on this team have a knack for this. Keep practicing. You’ll need to hold it for at least three minutes. That’s how long it’ll take us to fly to the Seireitei and break through the membrane that encases the top.”

She nodded, pulling back her reiryoku just as she started to feel lightheaded. Her stomach growled, and she realized all they had to eat was a protein bar apiece. Face flushing, she turned away to focus on practicing.

Although she managed to divert her focus, the anxiety hovered at the back of her mind. She glanced at Ichigo, Uryu, and Ganju. Would the three of them be able to get along long enough for them to keep from blowing up?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t the notion of food that surprised Tamiko, considering how well fed everyone in the Shiba household appeared to be, but how simple and plentiful it was. Grilled fish, rice, fresh vegetables, and miso soup. She ate in silence, wondering how they came across so much food.

‘I guess the fish could have been caught in a nearby stream,’ she thought, appreciating each bite she took. ‘Anyone could grow vegetables within a garden, if they have the seeds. But the man in town made it seem like the best food went straight to the Seireitei.’

She intended to ask Yoruichi immediately after dinner, but Ichigo’s success--or lack thereof--with the reishukaku caused it to slip her mind. He had lost all concentration and blew up the training all. Kūkaku refused him dinner as punishment for not listening and sent everyone to bed. Unlike the night before, they were given separate rooms. Tamiko lay awake in hers, locked in a staring contest with the ceiling.

Outside, the floor creaked. Orihime’s reiryoku drifted by, heading towards the room Ichigo was in. Tamiko propped herself up in time to watch her silhouette disappear. She appeared to have been carrying something.

‘Did she manage to sneak some of her dinner?’ she wondered, rolling to lay on her stomach. She placed her chin on an arm.

The thought of food reminded her of what she wanted to ask. And as luck would have it, another silhouette appeared, one in the shape of a cat. “Oh, Yoruichi!” she hissed, leaping up and opening the door. “Could you come in? I need to ask you something.”

“Why do you always have questions when it’s time for bed?” Yoruichi asked, sauntering in. She let out a long yawn. “Well, what is it? We need to be up before sunrise in order to prepare for the launch.”

“How is it that the Shiba household has so much readily available food? I was under the impression that it was hard to come by.”

Yoruichi sat down, tail curling around her front paws. “That’s because the Shiba clan was once one of the five great, noble houses of the Soul Society. They have their own plot of farmland and money to spare.”

“They were... nobility?” It was hard to imagine Kūkaku and Ganju as nobles, given how bombastic they were. She couldn’t picture either one in formal clothing.

“It was several years ago,” Yoruichi said, bowing her head. “The Shiba clan was ejected from the Seireitei when their clan head, the former Captain of Squad 10, disappeared into the World of the Living.”

“Whoa. You mean like Rukia?”

“In a way. You see, Rukia isn’t the first Soul Reaper to disappear. And neither was the former Squad 10 captain. Many other captains and lieutenants have gone missing within the last 110 years.”

Her mind whirled at that. “’Gone missing.’ When you say that, it sounds like they just vanished. Did they not leave on their own accord?”

Silence hung between them. Yoruichi turned her head away. She stood, stretched, and headed back for the door. “I believe that’s enough questions for the time being. Like I said, we have another early morning tomorrow. Get some sleep now, because tomorrow, we will be in the heart of enemy territory.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It loomed over them. The harbinger of their doom, also known as the Flower Crane Cannon. Tamiko stared at it, not listening to Yoruichi as she debriefed them on the plan following their landing. Again, the image of them blowing up and falling played out.

‘Everything will be fine,’ Tamiko kept repeating to herself. ‘We’re definitely not going to fall to our deaths. No, don’t even think that!’ Her fingers ran through her bangs, heart thudding straight through her chest. She took short, swallow breaths.

Someone grabbed one of her hands, and she glanced over to see Orihime’s soft smile. Another hand rested on top of her head, Chad standing on her other side. His eyes glistened gently.

Cheeks warming, Tamiko faced forward. Ichigo flashed a thumbs up and a grin. And Uryu’s concerned eyes met hers. He pushed up his glasses, but he didn’t look away. Even Yoruichi paused in her speech. She let out a loud purr when she rubbed her head against her legs.

Tamiko focused on their respective energies, how different and similar they all were. Her heart settled and lungs filled with humid air. She let a wan smile spread across her face. “Sorry. I nearly forgot. As long as we’re together, nothing can go wrong.”

“Of course!” Orihime chimed, squeezing her hand. “We’re going to get through this together.”

Chad grunted his agreement, fingers lightly brushing against her scalp.

Ichigo ran a hand over his head. “How can you forget something like that, Tamiko? We’re all here, aren’t we?”

Uryu held her gaze, eyes growing more intense. She tilted her head, but he didn’t offer any words of encouragement or an explanation. His hands tightened into fists, head lifting higher. Words weren’t required to know he felt the same way as everyone else.

“Where’s my idiot brother?” Kūkaku asked, blowing the moment to smithereens. “Have any of you seen him?”

“Last I saw him, he was chanting some gibberish in the training hall,” Ichigo said with a shrug.

As if on cue, Ganju dashed and leaped onto the platform. His hands dropped to his knees while he huffed for a breath. “The hero... is always the last to arrive! All decked out in my signature battle costume.”

Fashionably late. Tamiko took in his outfit. Parts of it reminded her of a shihakusho, but without any sleeves. His pants were different as well, becoming skin-tight past the knees. She glanced over at Uryu’s, noting how less absurd Ganju’s was in comparison. Maybe the setting had something to do with that?

“Wait! Battle?” Ichigo exclaimed, the horrified expression finding its way back to his face. “You don’t seriously mean to fight too.”

Seriousness clouded Ganju’s eyes. “What did you expect me to do? I despise Soul Reapers, remember? Because... they killed my brother.”

That’s why he hated them? Tamiko’s brows knitted together, mind trying to piece together how it connected to their missing clan leader.

“Ganju! Don’t you dare!” Kūkaku yelled, anger lighting up her eyes.

“No, sis,” Ganju said without looking at her. She seemed taken aback by his defiance. “They should know exactly what the Soul Reapers are capable of. Better to prepare them now rather than wait until it’s too late.”

And so, Kaien Shiba’s story was told. A brilliant man who passed the Soul Reaper Academy exam on his first try and one of the few to graduate in just one year instead of the normal six. In just five years, he was a lieutenant. Judging by the look of pride on Ganju’s face, he completely idolized his brother. A pang went through Tamiko’s heart.

It became broken when he described the night his brother was brought home. A horrible stab wound to the stomach that bled profusely. Done by a Soul Reaper’s Zanpakutō.

“My brother’s last breath was wasted on forgiving them!” Ganju shouted, voice shattering apart. His eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t know why, but he never hated them. They completely destroyed him and everything he had worked for!”

Tamiko had to turn away from the anguish on his face. It wasn’t clear exactly how the event happened, but it was an undeniable fact Kaien had died to a blade. Kūkaku’s bowed head and clenched eyes proved Ganju spoke the truth.

“And that’s why you want to join us?” Ichigo asked, voice soft. “To get revenge?”

“No. As much as I would love to do in the Soul Reaper that killed him, I want to help you and your friends. Your desire to save your friend makes you different from the other Soul Reapers, so I’ve got your backs.” He thrusted a thumb at himself, forcing his grin through the tears.

Ichigo returned the grin, taking a hold of his collar. “Alright then. Together.”

Ganju grabbed his in return. “Together.”

Tamiko beamed at them, feeling hope surge through her. They could do it. They could save Rukia. But first, they needed to be shot out of a cannon.

Inside it, her legs shook. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, focusing her mind on the reiryoku surrounding her. Ichigo. Uryu. Orihime. Chad. Yoruichi. And now Ganju. Her legs stilled, and their reiryoku entered into the reishukaku between them.

Pressure built itself under their feet. It grew hotter with each passing second. They were shot out like a bullet. The resounding explosion rang through her ears, but Tamiko was surprised to find themselves still in tact. They were moving smoothly, as if in a moving car. She imagined just that, and a smile leaked out.

“Awfully peaceful,” Ichigo said, voicing her thoughts. “I would expect a much harsher take off, being shot out of a cannon.”

Ganju let out a hearty laugh. “This is only the beginning!”

As if on cue, their speed picked up. Sweat broke out on Tamiko’s forehead, her imagination switching from a car to a rocket.

Faint rustling reached her ears. “Now for the rest of the incantation,” Ganju mumbled. “Just keep the cannonball stable, guys. One mistake, and we’re all dead.”

Did he have to put it that way? Her heart thudded in her ears and hands twitched. She took a deep breath, not about to lose her grip now. A loud roar overtook Ganju’s recitation. The reishukaku grew hot, making her hands twitch again.

“Kurosaki, lower your reiryoku! There’s no way we can match that kind of output!” Ichigo grumbled at Uryu’s hissing, but he lowered his energy a little. “That’s not enough. You’ve got to lower it more than that!”

“Are you kidding me? I lowered it by half!”

“Ichigo...” Chad mumbled.

“There’s no way you pulled back half!” Uryu yelled again. “Pull back before you blow us up!”

Any sense of concentration was broken as Ganju got in on the argument. Her clothes were sticky with sweat. Stomach tossed and turned. Tamiko opened her eyes to yell at them, but her eyes snapped downward.

Far below them was the buildings of the Seireitei. A shriek exploded through her. They slammed into an invisible barrier. Everything shattered and wind rushed around them. She clenched her eyes shut, not able to hear her own voice anymore.

Strong arms wrapped around her. The rush of wind grew quieter. They were floating, suspended in midair. And then, falling. _Falling fast_. Her consciousness slipped away before she could feel the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut it real close with this chapter. I did not expect it to be as long as it turned out. Next one should be out by October 3rd. We'll finally be in the heart of the Soul Society arc, and I can't wait!


	15. Invasion Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their invasion into the Seireitei has begun, and everyone has been split apart. Tamiko and Chad face a giant maze and cocky Soul Reapers in their quest to find the others and reach Rukia's prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
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A voice spoke, soft and deep, but not a word could be discerned. When it ceased, others arose to take its place. They were distant and garbled. Something bound Tamiko, kept her from moving. She groaned and squirmed against it.

The soft voice returned, shushing her. A gentle pressure was applied to her head, pushing her face into something firm, but warm. It rose and fell, and the pressure slid down to the back of her neck. The movements were soothing, and she quieted.

“What in the name of the Soul King happened here?” a voice, finally reaching her ears, asked. “This crater is massive! No ryoka could have made it.”

Another voice barked, “One was spotted landing in this area! If there isn’t a body, that means they’re still alive. Now find them!”

“Yes, sir!” a chorus of voices answered him.

 _Ryoka_. That single word brought everything back to her. Boarding the cannon. The reishukaku between them. The launch. Everyone yelling at Ichigo for expelling an excessive amount of reiryoku. Hitting the membrane. And then... they fell.

Her entire body shook like a leaf in a windstorm. Where was everyone? The only familiar reiryoku Tamiko sensed was Chad’s. It enveloped her, clutching her as firmly as his arms. Below them, the reiatsu of seven--no eight--Soul Reapers hovered, forcing her to hold the question back.

Wait. Below them? She opened her eyes, finding herself nestled against Chad’s chest. Branches of greenery surrounded them. A little bird landed on one and tilted its head at them. They were in a tree. Only tiny beams of light managed to break through the thick foliage. Made for the perfect hiding place. The Soul Reapers declared the area secure and rushed off to check other sections.

It was hard to gauge just how long they stayed up there, but it must have been at least an hour. Tamiko shifted, trying to rid her muscles of the stiffness encasing them.

“Can... we get down?” she squeaked out. “Please? I think we’re alone now.”

Chad grunted his consent. His arms repositioned themselves to ensure her security before dropping out of the tree. He gently set on her feet. The ground swayed beneath her, and he caught her before she could even stumble. “Are you alright?”

“I guess I’m... a little shaken up. From the fall.” She shook the dizziness from her head. As her vision steadied, she noticed the crater. A massive hole within a street of flagstones. An entire section of wall was missing, turned to dust. “D-did you...?”

“Yes. I used my arm.”

She turned her head to take him in. He was covered in a thin layer of dust, rubble littering his hair. His right arm appeared to be alright in its normal state. The left, however, dripped with blood.

The sight squeezed her heart, and she shrugged off her backpack to dig out the first aid kit. Upon cleaning the wound, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a bad scrape with a few pieces of debris embedded within.

“It’s going to hurt,” she mumbled, prying away one of the pebbles. He made no signs of pain. Not even a hiss.

All the while, she kept her senses open for any nearing reiatsu, both friend and foe. Thankfully, no Soul Reapers appeared to be coming their way, but Tamiko worked as quickly as she could to get Chad’s arm wrapped. “Where is everyone else? Did you see where they fell?”

His shoulders lowered. “No. I was busy.”

“So they could be anywhere.” Her voice broke, hands shaking as she tightened the last layer of bandages.

Anywhere. They could have landed _anywhere_ within the Seireitei. Laying in a pool of their own blood. Bones crushed. A scream bubbled forth, but Chad covered her mouth.

“They’ll hear,” he said, putting a finger to his lips.

She nodded, letting the scream die in her throat. Her head leaned into his hand, eyes clenching shut. “T-the others...”

“If we survived, they did too.”

Again, she nodded. They had to be alright. Likely they found a safer way to land. Orihime could have caught them on her shield. Assuming they all landed together.

Chad’s hand moved to the top of her head. She focused on it and his sturdy reiryoku. They grounded her, brought her away from her twisting thoughts. “Maybe if we move, I’ll be able to sense them. And we shouldn’t linger anyway.”

“Agreed. But which way?”

She took in the small courtyard, lush with trees and bushes. Walls quartered it off, the only openings being a main entrance and the one Chad had created. Not a soul could be seen, but their reiryoku could be felt for kilometers. None of it was familiar. They truly were in the heart of enemy territory.

With a point of her finger, she decided on their direction. No one guarded the crater, the nearest spark of reiryoku in the opposite direction. “That way. It would be best to avoid fighting as much as possible. At least until we can meet up with the others.”

He offered no argument and walked alongside her. They skirted by the hole and headed into a walled pathway. As they went, she prayed one of their friends would hit her senses. A whiff of rain. A loud roar. A soft flower. A fiery explosive. Her brain desperately sought out each one. Hopefully, no one else got hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every bone in his body rattled upon impact. The shield had materialized under them, but it barely softened the landing. Uryu pushed himself up, amazed to find nothing broken. He adjusted his glasses and looked frantically for his accomplice. Her arm had been around his waist a moment ago...

He found her. Laying a couple of feet away and not moving. “Inoue!”

In less than a second, he was leaning over her. His entire being let out a breath, finding her alive, but passed out. Ever so gently, he checked her over for injuries. A couple of scratches and a nasty bruise were discovered on her right arm, just above the elbow.

Good thing he had the foresight to pack a first aid kit. He fished it out of his tunic and cringed. It was tiny compared to the one Kimura had brought. Hers even had painkillers.

Speaking of Kimura, Uryu reached out not only for her reiryoku, but those of everyone else. Red ribbons rippled towards him. It only took a moment to zero in on Kurosaki’s, as it practically glowed next to the others. There was a white one with him--Shiba.

So they landed together. And were already engaged in battle, judging by the spike in their pressures. Typical.

Uryu turned his attention to the opposite direction. There was another white ribbon among the sea of red. Sado’s. Didn’t he and Kimura fall together? She was expelled from the whirlwind first, and he went after her. They had to be together, so why couldn’t he...?

There it was. It flickered into existence beside Sado’s. She must have been knocked out like Inoue. Uryu shook his head, telling himself not to worry. He knew--hoped--Sado would look out for her. Keep her from running recklessly into danger.

In the meantime, Uryu had a girl of his own to look out for. He tugged out bandages and antiseptic, not wanting to waste anymore time. Their landing had made a sufficient amount of noise, so enemies were bound to appear at any moment. As he cleaned and bandaged Inoue’s arm, he kept his senses open for them.

Inoue began mumbling in her sleep. All but one word was incomprehensible. “Kurosaki.” Spoken with a smile.

He couldn’t imagine what she could be dreaming about, and he didn’t want to. It reassured him, though. She couldn’t be seriously injured if she was having a pleasant dream.

All done. The first aid kit returned to his pocket, and he settled on his heels. ‘I’ll let her rest a little longer,’ he thought, watching over her. ‘No one seems to be nearby just yet, but it won’t be long. Soon, we’ll be forced to either run or fight.’

He clenched his gloved hand, hoping that he wouldn’t have to use his secret weapon any time soon. The glove was a last resort. Only to be used when all other means were exhausted.

‘I swear, sensei. I _will_ put this power to good use. To prove the Quincy’s true might. Once and for all.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was empty. So empty that his head hurt. Mochi had draped himself over the counter the moment his shift started and hadn’t moved for two whole hours. No reason to. There hadn’t been any customers. All of the regulars were away for the summer, off to some beach or resort somewhere. He’d have gone too, but a complementary summer vacation wasn’t part of the job package.

He sighed, eyeing the empty register beside him. Ishida took off before summer break started, leaving behind a vague, “I’ll be back in September.”

That lucky bastard, able to up and leave whenever he felt like it. Ishida didn’t _have_ three younger siblings who needed clothes and food. Or an ailing mother who was far too weak to look after them. He even had a father who was the director of a whole hospital, who could afford to buy him whatever he wanted. He didn’t _need_ to work.

And yet, he had refused financial help. Made the decision to strike out on his own, and that was why he worked part-time. Even still, he was completely on his _own_. His only responsibility was to _himself_.

Because of that, Mochi pitied as well as envied him. Going home to an empty apartment. Eating his meals in complete solitude. Walking to and from school and work with just his thoughts.

So when Kimura came along, it was like seeing Ishida in a completely different light. Something in his eyes changed. They grew warmer, if ever so slightly. Especially when she walked in sick. The cold mask crumbled away at the sight of her venerable state.

Sure, they weren’t actually dating. But anyone with eyes could see what Mochi saw. The way hers lit up with good humor. How she came every night Ishida worked. Kimura was exactly what he needed.

When he had left for his trip, Mochi felt certain he wouldn’t see her again for a while either. It was a complete shock when she popped in every night. Simply to see him. To keep him company. Her laughter rang out at his antics, bringing the sun in the middle of the dark night.

And now she was gone too. On a trip with her friends. The store was too quiet without her and Ishida’s constant back and forth. Mochi let out a heavy breath, closing his eyes.

At least they were enjoying their vacation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tamiko felt like a mouse, chasing after the notion of cheese. The entire Seireitei was one giant maze. And the cheese? Her friends’ pressures. Ganju’s and Ichigo’s slammed into her senses, at least giving her a vague sense of direction.

So she and Chad darted every which way in their attempt to reach them. Dead end after dead end jumped in their path, forcing them to backtrack several meters in order to locate a detour.

Not only that, but many sections were clogged with Soul Reapers. Still wanting to avoid fighting, Tamiko actively chose routes that were barren, even if it took them out of their way. And now they were faced with yet another dead end.

“I could break us through,” Chad suggested, bringing up his right arm. His reiryoku inched towards it.

“Hang on,” she said and stepped between him and the wall. She studied it, supposing it would be faster if he smashed their way through the maze. While they wanted to avoid drawing attention to themselves, it was getting them nowhere. How much time had they wasted retracing their steps every five minutes? “Alright. Go for it.”

She stepped out of the way, and his arm glowed with energy. The armor encased it. He slugged at the wall. It took only one punch to smash a hole big enough for him to walk through. The resulting crash definitely caught attention, because a group of Soul Reapers were now racing towards them.

“Get ready to fight,” Tamiko warned, reaching to pull the broken staff out of her backpack.

Chad grunted in understanding and stepped through the hole. “Stay back. I’ll take care of them.”

He didn’t see her shake her head. No way would she let him fight armed men alone. She followed close behind, keeping her reiryoku buried deep within. Her lack of physical strength and speed were her biggest weaknesses. The element of surprise would help her, and he provided the necessary cover.

Five pressures rounded a nearby corner. Exclamations arose, celebrations of finding a ryoka. Chad faced them, fist clenched. Tamiko settled into an offensive position, both hands on the small weapon.

“Whoa, you’re a big one, ain’t ya?” one of the Soul Reapers said. “Means you gotta be fairly strong, yeah? Good. We like a challenge!”

So smug. His tone was reminiscent of Abarai’s, but his, and the strength of his companions paled in comparison. They should be easy enough to deal with, but her knees kept knocking together. She swallowed, willing them to still.

‘You can do this,’ she encouraged herself. ‘This is what you trained for. Be patient. Wait for them to come to you.’

Swords were drawn. Feet pounded the pavement. She waited. One beat. Two. Three. Reiryoku poured into the staff. She pivoted out from behind Chad. Her weapon flew, colliding with the wrist of the nearest enemy. His blade went flying, clattering somewhere in the distance.

Their stunned faces were priceless. She couldn’t resist the urge to twirl the staff with flourish. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

“T-two ryoka?” someone managed to sputter out.

Another one mumbled, “And she disarmed Seventh Seat Nagakura.”

The disarmed Soul Reaper--Nagakura--clenched his empty fist. His entire face turned bright red, making him look like an apple with his brown hair and green top knot. “Why you little...”

“Tamiko,” Chad said, the stunned expression on his face turning serious. “What are you doing?”

She forced a half grin. “Fighting. Did you think I’d just stand around and do nothing while you knocked their lights out? That’s no fun.”

“You call that ‘fighting?’” Nagakura asked, voice as sharp as a blade. “Ha! No way you could survive a real fight with me.”

“This isn’t a real fight? Sure looks like one with all of the drawn swords.”

He let out a boisterous laugh. In a sickeningly sweet voice, he said, “Nah, ya just gotta lucky strike. Good for you! But you’re far too weak for me, so step aside. We’ll deal with you after we’ve taken out your friend here.”

“Weak?” The taunts and punches of those junior high boys filled her memory. Her grip tightened. She let her reiatsu explode, looming over the Soul Reapers.

They straightened. A couple even recoiled back.

“Well, if that’s how you want it,” Nagakura said, cracking his knuckles. “Change of plans, boys. I’ll take on this little bug one-on-one while you take on the big guy. Just try not to knock him out before I’m finished.”

“No! Hold on--” Chad’s protest was interrupted as the four Soul Reapers charged at him. He stepped back to avoid the swinging blades.

“Don’t worry about me,” Tamiko assured him, her voice squeaking slightly. “Focus on not getting hurt. I’ll do the same.”

She turned and faced the smirk linking Nagakura’s ears. “You may have knocked away my Zanpakutō, but that’s not enough to stop me. I happen to be a hakuda expert.”

Hand-to-hand combat. Part of Yoruichi’s training had involved learning the various ways a Soul Reaper could fight besides the use of a blade. Hakuda utilized various martial arts techniques, particularly karate and judo. Tamiko eyed his muscular physique, bringing the staff closer to her body. If he got too close, he would easily overpower her.

He made the first move. A jab towards her face. The staff swung to greet it. His tactic changed, body going low to grab her. She moved to jump away from his hand, but he managed to grab a fistful of her shirt.

It was enough. He easily lifted and flung her over his shoulder. The staff caught her, stabbing firmly into the flagstone with an increase of energy. But it went in too far. Her moment of hesitation to pull it out earned her that jab to the cheek.

She and the staff hit the ground. Stars appeared before her eyes. The taste of blood flooded her mouth. A trickle of it seeped between her lips. Wiping it away, she jumped back up.

Just in time too, as he was rushing to get behind her. His steps were slow, running at an average pace. Could he not utilize hohō?

Yet another Soul Reaper technique, one that she witnessed firsthand. One could use their reiryoku to increase their agility and speed. Byakuya Kuchiki was apparently a master, explaining how he could move in the blink of an eye.

If Nagakura couldn’t use it, that meant an even playing field. As soon as his foot landed on the pavement, she sidestepped. Her staff slammed into his chest with enough force--she hoped--to take his breath away. Seemed to be, as he stumbled back, surprise written all over his face.

“Y-you...” he gasped, and he leered in response to her smirk. “Don’t think this means you have the upper hand. You’re just gettin’ lucky!”

“Sure I am.” She shook her head.

“Well, it’s gonna run out here and now.” He raised his right hand with a smirk. “Because I’m going to blast you away! Shakkahō!”

The palm of his hand glowed a bright red. Not unlike the beam the Menos Grande had created, but much smaller. Tamiko skirted away just in time. Heat brushed against the left side of her face. A hole blasted through the wall behind her.

Kidō. An offensive one.

Nagakura laughed at the look of terror she gave the smoldering stone. “Now, let’s see you dance, little bug.”

Another attack gathered. And again, she moved out of the way before the fire ball could get anywhere near her skin. One blast after another came. She sidestepped, ducked, twisted, and leaped away from each one.

It became a deadly game of dodge ball. A one-sided game. He kept her on her toes, not giving her a chance to close in and land another strike. She watched his movements closely, waiting for an opening.

And finally, she noticed one--a pause after he fired three balls in quick succession. The only chance she had, so while he resumed firing them one at a time, she inched herself closer to him.

Three blasts came at her. She dove, hitting the ground at his feet. He whooped in victory, his hand coming within inches of her head. Red light gathered, but she swept the staff against his ankles. The amount of energy she poured in was enough to slice through the skin, to disable him. She cringed at the blood splashing her face.

Nagakura toppled over, sending the shakkahō up into the sky. He blinked stupidly at the disappearing ball.

She jumped up and held the end of her staff in his face. A bead of sweat dripped past her eye, and she blinked against it. Her breath came out in harsh gasps, cheek throbbing. “Now who’s the ‘little bug?’”

His mouth opened, but all he could get out were sputters. It was a wonder his eyes didn’t roll out of their sockets with how big they were.

“Tamiko,” Chad said from behind her.

Keeping the weapon within an inch of Nagakura’s nose, she glanced back at him. The armor still encased his arm, and he didn’t appear to have sustained any new injuries. She relaxed, relieved they were about to walk away from their first battle unscathed. “I take it you won?”

He pointed over his shoulder in response. Behind him laid four groaning bodies. The Soul Reapers were fairly bruised, but no one seemed seriously injured.

“I tried asking them where Rukia Kuchiki was,” he said, “but they don’t seem to know.”

“Oh? That’s a good idea. Maybe if we can get to Rukia, we’ll meet up with the others too.” As Chad grunted his agreement, she looked back at Nagakura. “Hey, you’re a seated officer. You’ve got to know where they’d keep a prisoner.”

The staff drew closer to the tip of his nose, and his mouth finally formed words, “Er. Yeah. I know where she is.”

“Then tell us.” Chad stepped up, right hand tightening into a fist.

Nagakura looked between them. His hand shakily rose, pointing to something above them. “That’s Sōkyoku Hill. Overlooking it is a white tower. The Senzauikyū.”

An orange mesa stood against a clear, blue sky, looming over everything else. Atop it were pillars, but of what, Tamiko couldn’t say. Some hill. She drew in a sharp breath at the thought of climbing it.

There was the white tower. The name Nagakura gave meant penitence. It must have been a place where one could atone for their sins before execution. An image of Rukia sitting all alone within it materialized in her mind.

Chad’s voice broke into her thoughts, “Do you know how we can get there?”

“Y-you want to go there?” Nagakura asked, face distorting from confusion. “Don’t tell me you intend to break her out?”

Tamiko nodded and frowned at his resulting cackles. “And what’s so funny about that?”

“Senzauikyū is impenetrable. It’s made from sekkiseki! The only way into it is with a key. Either way, I don’t know how to get there. This place is a frickin’ maze.”

Sekkiseki, the material that repels reiryoku. Surrounded by it, Rukia couldn’t sense what was happening below her. Hopeless. With no clue that anyone was trying to rescue her.

They needed to break her out. At all costs. To reach her, tell her that she hasn’t been alone. Even though they were so far away from her, they were there. And none of them were going to stop until she was safely by their side.

Tamiko lifted the weapon from Nagakura, retracting her energy. She stowed it back within her bag and replaced it with the first aid kit. Without a word, she pulled out a roll of bandages and began wrapping his ankles.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked, flinching at her touch.

“Making sure you don’t lose too much blood.” All done, she put the rest of the bandages back into the kit. “There. That should hold you until help arrives.”

“Hey! I’m your enemy. Why are you showin’ me kindness? I could still attack ya!” He raised his palm. The shakkahō gathered within it.

She recoiled back, scrambling to get out of point blank range.

Chad plucked him off the ground by his collar. “Try it,” he said, lifting his fist, “if you want your face smashed in.”

The attack snuffed out, Nagakura’s eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets again. He fainted dead away, and Chad dropped him unceremoniously.

“Are you alright, Tamiko?” he asked, his arm returning to normal. He bent down and held out a hand to her.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she took his hand. He easily put her back on her feet. “Yeah. But my cheek sure does hurt.” She hissed, rubbing at it. A metallic taste still danced on her tongue. “Thanks.”

“We know where Rukia is now.”

“But not how to get there,” she pointed out. She looked to the giant mesa before gathering up the first aid kit.

“Let’s find someone who does.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of their first day within the Seireitei. Countless scuffles had helped pass the time, as they tried to find someone to point them in the right direction of the Senzauikyū. Everyone Tamiko asked were completely clueless or wouldn’t comply--hard to tell which--while the ones Chad asked wouldn’t stay conscious long enough to answer.

Needless to say, they still didn’t have a clue on which way to go. And it didn’t help when she rushed off in the direction of Orihime’s and Uryu’s pressures.

“I’m sorry,” Tamiko mumbled into Chad’s shoulder. An apology, not only for getting them lost, but for being too exhausted to walk on her own. She clung to his back, struggling to keep her eyes open. “If we run into enemies now, I won’t be any help.”

“It’s alright. I’ll find a place to rest.” He carried her through an opening in the wall. It led them to a street lined with buildings. They were exactly alike, all the way up to their orange-tiled roofs. “Are there any enemies in these?”

She lifted her head and scanned the structures. “No. There isn’t any reiryoku. Some lingering reiatsu, though.”

“How can you tell the difference?” he asked, striding towards the nearest building.

“Reiatsu makes the air heavier. Like before a thunderstorm. Reiryoku’s just... I don’t know. A presence. Kind of like I can see through walls, but without my eyes.”

He murmured incoherently. She knew her explanation made zero sense. ‘I should’ve asked Yoruichi about that,’ she thought, wincing at a pang in her cheek. ‘Or Uryu.’

A warehouse--filled with crates, barrels, and sacks--was what they walked into. He gently set her down on the floor and went to work making a bed out of empty sacks and cloth tarps. When it was finished, she stared at the floor, cheeks warming.

“You should sleep,” he coaxed. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep watch.”

She jerked up at that, noting the weariness lining his face. “But you need to get some rest too.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“How about we take turns? I’ll sleep for a couple of hours, and then you wake me up. We’ll trade off.” He shook his head in response and held up four fingers. “Four hours is far too long.”

“Four or no deal,” he said, putting the hand down. “You haven’t slept.”

Her head lowered back down as she rubbed at an eye. The night before, she had tossed and turned, mind consumed with them falling to their deaths. And then up before the sun yet again.

“Okay. Four hours. And you better wake me up. We both need to be in fighting shape, if we’re going to get to the Senzauikyū tomorrow.” She peeled off her backpack and crawled into the makeshift bed.

For several minutes, they stared at each other. An awkward silence stretched between them. It reminded her of how he had watched over her in the infirmary. He had refused to leave her side, even though it caused him to miss a couple of classes.

“You know,” she mumbled, shifting to lay more comfortably on her side, “when I first saw you, I thought you were a bully. Ichigo too. I was terrified that first day, and you two decided to eat lunch with me. Why?”

“Ichigo’s idea.”

“Oh.” She blinked, but wasn’t the least bit surprised. Given what she now knew about Ichigo, it was within his character to invade her personal space. Somehow, he had known she didn’t desire to be alone.

“But... you looked like you needed someone. To look out for you.”

Her eyes darted away, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I guess I kind of did. Still do. I... I don’t know what I’d do if I was here on my own.”

He grunted in response.

The awkwardness returned, but she found a stack of sacks to stare at it. They were labeled as ‘dried food.’ Must be a stockpile of emergency rations. Soul Reapers probably took them on distant missions where food would be hard to come by. She wondered if Rukia had been given any when she was sent to the World of the Living.

‘And now she’s all alone.’ Tamiko remembered the image of Rukia sitting within that tower. ‘Maybe Ichigo’s on his way already. He’s bound to have figured out where she is by now, right?’

“Sleep,” Chad said, snapping her back towards him.

“I can’t. I keep thinking about Rukia. We have to get to her.”

He let out a breath. “I know.”

“Maybe we should take our minds off it,” she suggested, racking her brain for something to talk about. Chad shifted, and the coin around his neck glinted in the low light. She pointed at it. “What about that?”

His fingers brushed against the coin before lifting it up. She nodded, and he took it off. It was gently lowered into the palm of her hand; it had to be from another country. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what the writing on it said. But the eagle with a snake clutched in its beak and talon were unmistakable.

“My abuelo gave it to me,” Chad intoned, his hand almost touching hers. “It’s valuable to me. More than my own life.”

“Abuelo?” she echoed, stumbling over the strange word.

“Grandfather. You were right. I was a bully. Once.”

Like times before, he gradually detailed the story of his past. It all started with a car accident in Mexico. One that took the lives of his parents, but spared him. He couldn’t understand why. The doctors attributed it to his immense strength.

So he lashed out. If he was so strong, why not use it to his advantage? To terrify and hurt anyone who crossed him. Chad bowed his head as he recounted the boys--even a few girls--he mercilessly beat up just for looking at him funny or asking about his name.

Tamiko curled her fingers around the coin. It was hard to imagine him being so ruthless.

One day, karma came for him in the form of the children’s fathers. They were ready to make Chad suffer in the same way, but his grandfather stepped in. He took the punishment and didn’t fight back.

“I vowed that day,” Chad concluded, “to only fight to protect others.”

“And that’s why you helped Ichigo fight those boys.” She slipped the coin into his hand.

It returned to its place around his neck. “They were going to hurt you. Again.”

There was a slight edge to his voice. It was clear they had reminded him of himself. For the last year, Tamiko wondered why he had gone along with Ichigo without question, without argument. Now she understood.

“Thank you,” she whispered sleepily. “For helping Ichigo knock some sense into their thick heads.”

A gentle smile flickered along with a bob of his head. “Sleep.”

“Could you tell me more about your grandfather? Please?”

He gave another nod, and Tamiko closed her eyes. She listened to the soft rumble of his voice slowly describing his abuelo’s teachings. How hard he had tried to make Chad understand how to be gentle.

The tarp was pulled over her shoulder, and a hand brushed against her head. Sleep finally claimed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moonlight shone through a small window, barely enough to light the small space. It was otherworldly, despite the many ordinary objects surrounding them. Two hours had gone by since Tamiko switched places with Chad. Her cheek still throbbed from Nagakura’s punch, but at least nothing was broken. She longed for an ice pack, though.

No longer able to sit still, she started rifling through the sacks and crates. Dried food aplenty was uncovered. Meat, fruit, rice crackers. Definitely the kind of stuff meant to last for long missions. It was perfect, so she stuffed her backpack with as much as she could. She even found loads of wooden containers filled with water.

‘I want to make sure there’s enough for everyone,’ she thought, worrying if the others managed to find what they were lucky to come across. Food, water, and shelter. She should have suggested packing more rations for everyone, but she had been afraid to put out the Shiba clan further.

The other contents of the warehouse included cleaning supplies for Zanpakutōs, ink and paper, and empty bags. Nothing else that would benefit them.

Finished with her raid, she settled on her heels, broken staff in one hand, and a handful of dried plums in the other. She was famished, having eaten a tiny breakfast before boarding the cannon. And she and Chad had consumed the last two protein bars during a short break that afternoon.

So she downed the plums and a bunch of crackers, wary of the meat. It didn’t have the scent of garlic on it, but better not to risk it. She didn’t want to imagine what would happen if she were to have a reaction. They had yet to find a bathroom, for one thing, leading into an awkward circumstance in an alley.

‘Hey, when you got to go,’ she thought, face flushing up. ‘We’re already intruders. May as well deface property and steal their food while we’re at it.’ Crumbs rained down her knees when she bit into another cracker.

Chad turned in his sleep, drawing her attention. She devoured the rest of the food while watching him. His face was soft and at ease, not unlike how he usually looked while awake. But there was something peaceful about it.

They were in a bubble, safe from the reiryoku flitting outside. Apparently many of the Soul Reapers were assigned to search through the night. Both hands gripped her weapon, waiting for any of them to draw closer to their hiding place. Waiting to either fight or run.

Except no one ever came close enough. They were safe. But for how much longer?

The rest of the time slipped away, the sky beginning to lighten. Tamiko gently roused Chad and slid a pile of rations over to him with a sly grin. “This was the best place to hide out in. There’s loads of food. My backpack’s about to burst!”

“That’s stealing,” he said, eyeing the food. His stomach belted out a growl, and he lowered his head from embarrassment.

“I don’t think that matters at this point. We’re ryoka. Already hardened criminals just by being here.” She waved it off with a giggle and nudged the food until it was up against his leg.

He let out a breath and grabbed a piece of dried meat. After getting a good look at it, he took a bite. His eyes grew wider. The second bite finished off the piece, and he quickly grabbed another one.

“Did you remember that nightmare?” he asked between bites.

She shook her head and turned her gaze to the floor. “No. I couldn’t.”

About an hour before Chad was supposed to wake her, she jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Just like what had happened at Elder Ogi’s house. Except she had Chad hovering over her, trying to ascertain if she had fallen ill. It took that whole hour to reassure him and calm herself down.

Another nightmare. One she couldn’t remember no matter how many times she prodded her brain. ‘Why do these keep happening? Is it stress?’

The subject wasn’t pushed. Chad continued his meal in silence, while Tamiko turned her senses outward. Dozens of Soul Reapers appeared to have gathered nearby, their signatures clustering together. Were they having a meeting?

Every muscle in her body went stiff, her eyes darting to the door. They were drawing closer. Too close for comfort, almost as if they were making a beeline for their hiding place. Her heart thudded in her ears.

Chad put a hand on her shoulder and swallowed the mouthful of food. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to run,” she uttered, rocketing to her feet. “Now!”

Without needing an explanation, he was up as well. She pointed to the far wall, and he rushed to it. The armor encased his fist. It collided with the wall, and they ran through the resulting hole before the dust could settle.

Behind them, voices exclaimed. The Soul Reapers gave chase. How were they discovered? Tamiko was certain she kept her energy low and pressure hidden. And they couldn’t have sensed Chad while he was asleep.

‘I don’t understand,’ she thought, struggling to keep pace with Chad’s long stride.

“Tamiko!” Chad’s shout yanked her away from her thoughts.

Before she could respond, he snapped her up. His left hand pressed against her stomach while the right held her legs together. He lifted her over his head. “W-what are you...?”

“Get ready.”

He chucked her, and she went sailing over a wall. A shriek tore through her as she screwed her eyes shut. Reishi exploded out of the broken staff. It struck, becoming embedded into the flagstones yet again. The impact sent tremors through her arms. Like a ragdoll, she collapsed, her splinted weapon clattering beside her.

“Chad...” she groaned, shakily pushing herself up. She twisted towards the wall, but he was already gone. His reiatsu moving further and further away from her, and he was taking the Soul Reapers with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the rising sun came another battle.It snagged her attention. Tamiko barreled down the wall-lined streets, trying to reach the clashing pressures.

A rematch between Ichigo and Abarai, which, she realized, had been inevitable. She knew he had the strength to beat him, but fear clenched her heart. The worry that even if he did come out victorious, he could sustain terrible wounds. And without Orihime to heal him...

Tamiko pushed herself harder, to run away from the dark thoughts. She just had to believe in him. Believe he would make out of the fight in one piece.

Dead end after dead end sprung up in her path. More backtracking, but at least the area was clear of enemies. There hasn’t been any. Every street eerily empty.

Time slipped by. As suddenly as the fight began, it ended. The pressures of both Ichigo and Abarai flickered at the edges of her senses, beginning to disappear. Abarai’s fell first, defeated.

She kept moving, desperate to reach Ichigo and see for herself how he fared. But he disappeared too, and once more, she ran into a dead end. She ran up to the wall and kicked it.

‘You better be alright, Ichigo.’ She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out from the throbbing in her toes and her heart. ‘Stay alive. Please.’

Her forehead pressed against the wall, and she sought out Chad’s sturdy reiryoku. She couldn’t find it. All of the energy from Soul Reapers stood in her way. Maybe since she couldn’t sense him, that meant he wasn’t in combat?

Or he had been knocked out. She didn’t dare let herself think of any other alternative.

The safety she had felt with him was gone. Her hands stayed around her weapon, knuckles as white as Uryu’s clothes. She winced against the throbbing in her cheek. If Orihime were here, she could heal it. Fear churned her stomach, and she longed to hear Ichigo’s reassuring voice. Even Ganju’s boasting would have been appreciated.

 _Alone_. She was completely, utterly alone.

Eventually, she turned to resume traveling. The only lead she had was Sōkyoku Hill. With any luck, Uryu and Orihime were on their way to that location as well. If she could simply meet up with them, they could think of a plan to get Rukia out and find everyone else. It was a tiny thread of hope, and she grasped it.

Just as she was about to leave the alley, her feet froze. An immense reiatsu sent her stumbling forward. Out of the corner of her a eye, a white haori fluttered. On instinct, she ducked behind the wall, pressing her back against it.

‘A captain? Did they see me?’ she wondered, heart banging against her lungs.

The pressure drew closer. It moved casually, as if the person was on a leisurely stroll. Either they didn’t know she was there or knew they had her cornered. Unsure, she steadied her breathing, but her legs continued to wobble beneath her.

“Captain Aizen!” a young woman cried.

Feet pounded against the flagstones. A girl, not much older than Tamiko in appearance, flashed by. Her face was lined with worry.

“What is it, Momo?” a deep voice asked.

Tamiko dared a peek around the wall. The captain in question was a man with brown hair. He pushed up his glasses, his soft eyes gazing fondly at the young woman. His complete focus was on her, and not Tamiko standing just a few feet away.

Momo was smaller than Rukia, barely standing over Aizen’s waist. On her left arm was a badge, marking her as a lieutenant. She seemed too young to hold such a rank, but appearances could be deceiving.

She halted before him and bowed. When she managed to catch her breath, she explained, “T-the Head Captain has just ordered an emergency meeting. A-about what happened to Squad 6 Lieutenant Renji Abarai.”

Word traveled fast. Even without modern technology, they already knew of Abarai’s defeat to Ichigo. What else did they know? Tamiko leaned heavily against the wall, eager to pick up whatever information she could.

A gentle smile cast down on Momo. “Yes, thank you,” he said with deep affection in his voice. “How are you faring with the news? Lieutenant Abarai is an old schoolmate of yours, is he not?”

“Y-yes. I would like to go see him. If I may.” Her voice broke and shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Tamiko swallowed against the squeezing of her heart. There was a Soul Reaper, heartbroken over the news of her friend’s defeat. He laid somewhere, badly hurt. It connected her with Tamiko. Gave them something in common. That realization turned her stomach.

“I know there are still a couple of ryoka nearby, but...” Momo trailed off when Aizen placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Of course you should go to him. Give him my best.”

Before Aizen could lift his head and see her, Tamiko darted back behind the wall. Momo dashed by, tears glittering in the sunlight. He didn’t move. His pressure stayed absolutely still.

Two minutes ticked by, and Tamiko held her breath. Yet, he still wouldn’t leave. A step was taken towards her. Then another. Her grip tightened on the weapon. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to fight or outrun him. It took every ounce of strength she had just to remain standing against his pressure.

“Things sure have become a mess, haven’t they?” he asked, voice gentle as if he were still conversing with Momo. “First the situation with Rukia Kuchiki and now a ryoka invasion. We haven’t had this many back-to-back meetings in nearly 20 years.”

He knew she was there. Even though he was speaking so casually, her chest ached with each word. What was he doing? Taunting her? A part of her wished he would shut up and capture her already. She was at his mercy.

His clothing rippled as he suddenly turned on his heel. “Best not to keep them waiting. I suspect a war time order will be given because of Abarai’s defeat. Soon, us captains will be joining the fray. That should make things interesting.”

Upon those words, he was gone. Disappeared in a burst of reiatsu. Tamiko plummeted to her knees, all her energy drained away. She lost her breakfast. Dried plums and crackers, pooling on the flagstones before her. Tears and snot ran down along with it.

Why? He just left her. Maybe he would inform the other captains? She should get moving. Before someone else found her in such a weakened state, but she couldn’t get her body to cooperate.

One thing wouldn’t leave her mind: Urahara’s warning. Was Aizen the captain she should stay away from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of proud how this chapter turned out. Some good bonding moments between Tamiko and Chad. Those are always fun to write. Please, stay tuned for chapter 16! We're getting closer to a major battle.


	16. Mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are beginning to take a turn in the Seireitei invasion. A captain has been killed, and the blame is being shifted towards the intruders. Hopelessness starts to consume Tamiko as she tries to make her towards where Rukia is being kept and find their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

It took an eternity after Aizen left, but Tamiko managed to push herself onto her heels. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, fighting the urge to gag over the bitter taste in her mouth. With a shrug, her backpack fell behind her. She dug out a bottle of water and hastily rinsed her mouth out.

Why hadn’t she been able to move? Was it because of how intense his reiatsu had been? It had been suffocating, as if it tried to crush her. Nothing like Byakuya Kuchiki’s. His came, at the very least, with the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. She knew that if she faced Aizen again, she’d be helpless. Well, any captain for that matter. Now she understood why Yoruichi urged them to run rather than try and fight.

A few tiny sips helped to clear her mind, reminded her that she needed to get moving. Get as far away from there as she could. Aizen was sure to have informed someone about her. Any moment, the alley would be flooded with Soul Reapers. She wasn’t in any condition to fight.

So she returned the bottle to her bag and swung it on. She sprinted back into the empty maze. There wasn’t a soul around. Wasn’t that strange? For how long she lingered over that pool of vomit, she would have assumed enemies to be swarming to apprehend her.

‘Did he not inform his subordinates?’ she wondered, one hand clutching her weapon, the other a backpack strap. ‘Maybe the meeting prevented him from doing so, but that doesn’t make sense.’

With how fast word traveled through the Seireitei, she found it hard to believe he was unable to get a message out to someone. Not Momo, who should be by Abarai’s side by now, but to any other seated officer he had at his disposal.

Perhaps it was best not to question it. The meeting had been urgent, and he had mentioned not wanting to keep his fellow captains waiting. A message of her location would probably be sent out as soon as the meeting ended, so she’d better keep moving. She broke out into a run, not caring for the direction. Just as long as it got her away from that alley.

While she raced through the maze, she wondered about Urahara’s warning. There had been a specific way he had described the man. What was it? A mad genius? Someone who would love to get his hands on her.

She thought back to how Aizen had interacted with Momo. How gentle he had been towards her. He spoke with such a soft, soothing voice. Nothing about it hinted towards ‘mad genius.’

And not to mention that he could have grabbed her then and there. He had the opportunity to do so, but didn’t.

So there was no way to know for sure who Urahara had been talking about. His warning was so vague, he could have been talking about anyone. The only clue to the person’s identity was the use of male pronouns. No matter. It was best to stay far away from all captains, but if that war time order that Aizen had mentioned came down...

Staying away from the captains would be impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This wasn’t going to work.

They were sure to be captured.

But Uryu didn’t have the heart to voice his fears to Inoue as she cheerfully chewed a mouthful of fried rice mixed with red bean paste. How could she be so comfortable?

With every clattering dish and scrape of a chair, he was ready to jump up and fight off the dozen or so enemies that surrounded them. Except they didn’t seem to notice them. The sounds of laughter and conversation echoed throughout the room. It was so peaceful, nothing like the chaos that was happening outside.

It would be so easy for that peace to be broken. All it would take was one word, a Soul Reaper shouting, “Ryoka!” and turn the entire mess hall into a battlefield.

Despite his worries, Uryu had to admit it was a clever plan, if completely reckless. Inoue had gotten the idea to disguise themselves as Soul Reapers. She even knocked out a pair and _stripped them_. Her courage was admirable.

That courage carried them all the way into the ranks of a squad--Thirteen, if he remembered correctly--and to their first decent meal in nearly 48 hours. He supposed he should be grateful for the food, but his stomach was tied up in knots. Here he was, dressed as and pretending to be a Soul Reaper. Enemies had them surrounded, even if they hadn’t realized it yet. Definitely not the atmosphere for a relaxing meal.

When he finally managed to get down a sip of broth, he discovered how good it was. A bowl of shoyu ramen, not unlike what he’d get from a ramen stand or the convenience store back home. Kimura would have enjoyed it.

He picked up the chopsticks to start working on the noodles. His senses opened up to check on her and everyone else. She was alone, having been separated from Sado earlier in the day. His reiryoku was weak and hard to detect, so he must have been overpowered by an enemy. Kurosaki’s was weak as well, likely wounded from his fight with Abarai. At least they were still alive.

Kimura was hard to detect as well. Her ribbon kept wavering out of view and reappearing in a different direction. It was because of that that Uryu felt certain she hadn’t been injured. She was on the move, likely trying to find the others.

‘Was she able to find food?’ he wondered, lifting a piece of pork cutlet from the bowl. ‘Surely she isn’t starving.’

While he chewed the food, he recalled a night where she had purchased a bowl of ramen instead of her usual unhealthy junk. She had grinned like a cheshire cat when he set the steaming bowl on the counter.

“You find this amusing, don’t you?” he asked, tying the bag tightly.

“Hm?” Her grin faded away.

“You’re finding joy in making me heat up your food. Otherwise, why would you purchase ramen in the middle of the night?” He moved his hand in order to push up his glasses, but froze at her baffled expression.

A pink blush tinted her cheeks. “It just so happens that I love ramen, and I’m starving from studying all night. Besides, you looked bored standing here. Thought you’d appreciate having something to do.”

He pushed up his glasses, taking in her sheepish appearance. Her hands clasped together in front of her, gaze glued to the floor. It was true that the night had been boring; Mochi had left early and there were so few customers. But she couldn’t have known that.

“Y-yes. Thank you, Kimura.” He cleared his throat and glanced at the clock. “My shift ends in a couple of minutes. I could escort you home.”

She perked up at that, her eyes brightening. A soft smile took over her face. “Sure!”

That same smile stared up at him from his bowl of ramen. She couldn’t be smiling now; she had to be frightened, all alone in a strange place with enemies around every corner. They needed to reach her before someone else did. The chopsticks froze inches from his mouth as his mind played out a scenario in which a group of Soul Reapers accost her, their hands reaching to grab her.

“Are you alright? Ishida?” Inoue’s question crashed into his thoughts. His body jerked, sending the chopsticks to clatter to the table. It drew the attention of their neighbors. He watched the three Soul Reapers out of the corner of his eyes.

Two of them looked as young as Inoue and himself, if not younger. One was a small boy with black hair, fixed with three white hair clips. The girl who sat beside him wasn’t much bigger, and she had a piece of red fabric atop her head. Honestly, the fashion sense with these Soul Reapers.

A man sat with them. Except for his six earrings, he looked perfectly ordinary. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed and free of any ornamentation. What bothered Uryu was how long his gaze lingered on him. He clenched his right hand against his thigh, waiting for the man to realize who they were.

“S-sir?” the boy squeaked out. “Officer Kajomaru?”

‘Officer?’ Uryu narrowed his eyes and tried to ascertain the man’s reiryoku. It didn’t appear to be any stronger than the others’ in the room, but he could be suppressing it. Likely, he didn’t see him and Inoue as threats. The man’s attention turned to the boy.

“I apologize, Yuki,” Kajomaru said with a soft smile. “I let myself get distracted while you were asking a question. Could you repeat it please?”

Yuki looked down at the table as his shoulders did a small shrugging motion. “W-well. It was about Miss Kuchiki’s post. I was wondering... who would be selected for it?”

So this had been Rukia Kuchiki’s squad, and she had been in charge of Karakura Town. Uryu caught himself feeling intrigued by the answer, giving in to the old notion of whether they’d be a worthy opponent or not.

‘That’s in the past,’ he reminded himself. ‘I won’t settle my grievances where innocent people could be caught in the crossfire.’

“The captain will look over a list of applicants some time after the execution,” Kajomaru answered, adjusting his glasses. “Assuming his health has improved by then. You and Miss Madarame have plenty of time to apply, if you’d like.”

“Already did,” the girl said, and Yuki’s eyes became as round as his hair clips.

“S-Shino! Why would you go and do something like that?”

She slapped his shoulder. “Aw, quit bein’ such a baby, Ryunosuke! It’ll be good for you to be out in the field. Put some hair on your chest!”

“But... I don’t want to go to the World of the Living. E-especially there. Isn’t that where a-all those Soul Reapers were killed?”

Inoue drew in a sharp breath, and Uryu met her eyes. He lightly shook his head and took back up the chopsticks. They needed to make it look like they were eating rather than listening in. She appeared to understand, digging her spoon into the pile of rice.

“I understand your fears. What happened was heartbreaking,” Kajomaru intoned, leaning on clasped hands. “It was unprecedented, for a captain to lose their power and simply vanish.”

Yuki let out such a high wail that it was a miracle no one’s glasses broke. “See, Shino. It’s dangerous! M-Miss Kuchiki broke the law. Others went missing or... or died. Y-you can’t honestly want to go.”

“Stop your whinin’ already!” Madarame, as Kajomaru had called her, yelled. She grinded her knuckles into his head.

He screwed his eyes shut, hands jumping in an attempt to stop her. “Oww! Q-quit it...”

“If we’re picked, then we’re goin’. It’s our job. And it’s how you can earn a promotion. Didn’t you say that you wanted to be a lieutenant one day?”

“Y-yeah. But that was when I thought a lieutenant only delegated work to the lower ranks. L-Lieutenant Shiba did that and fought Hollows. Remember what that one Hollow d-did to him?”

 _Shiba_. Were they talking about Ganju Shiba’s older brother? But hadn’t he been killed by a Soul Reaper? The spoon froze against Inoue’s lips, and her eyes grew to take up over half her face. It was clear she was wondering the same. After a moment, the food disappeared into her mouth. Uryu flicked his gaze down to take another bite as well.

All the while, the grinding on Yuki’s head intensified. She slammed his forehead into the table with a bang. “You gotta stop bein’ so soft. Such cowardly behavior only dishonors those who’ve died. So grow up and act like a man already!”

“There’s no need to berate him so,” Kajomaru said softly, holding up his hands. “Everyone gets scared. Don’t you remember when you first joined the academy? You were just as frightened as he is.”

“I-I was not!” Her face turned a dark shade of red.

“Perhaps my memory has failed me, but I seem to recall you shaking like a leaf in our first class together.”

She scoffed, letting Yuki go to cross her arms. Her gaze darted away from Kajomaru and towards him and Inoue. They hastily put more food into their mouths. Madarame emitted a low hum, but Uryu couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or suspicion.

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. “It’s your faulty memory. Your age must be catchin’ up to ya.”

Kajomaru chuckled in fondness. “In any case, you’ll do fine, Yuki. You were one of my top pupils, after all. And you’ll have Miss Madarame with you, if I’m right in my assumption that she signed the two of you up as a team.”

“You’re damn right I did!” She looked at Yuki, eyes alight with pride. “No way I’d let them send ya without me. You know I’ve got your back!”

Yuki perked up at her words and the light slap she gave his back. “T-thanks, Shino. That does make me feel better. Knowing I wouldn’t be going alone.”

Uryu tuned out the rest of their conversation. He had no reason to care for Soul Reapers and their problems.

He noticed the group finishing up their meal and clearing the dishes. Yuki volunteered to return Kajomaru’s to the kitchen, and he graciously accepted. After depositing the dishes, Yuki and Madarame headed for the door.

“H-hey, aren’t we going to go visit your brother?” he asked, and she picked up speed. “Isn’t he in the hospital?”

“That idiot? As if I’m gonna visit him. It’s own damn fault for lettin’ a ryoka put him there.”

Yuki’s argument faded among the clatters and conversations of the mess hall. Kajomaru kept his eyes on the pair the entire time. When they were gone, he faced forward, leaning on his elbows once again.

 _Why was he sticking around?_ There wasn’t any more food in front of him. Even his cup of tea was gone. All he did was stare at some distant point, his face and reiryoku calm.

Uryu’s grip tightened on his chopsticks, and he noted Inoue’s stiffening body. It surprised him. She had seemed so oblivious to the danger surrounding them. In two days, she was chased by enemies, nearly got chopped in half, and walked boldly into a squad’s barracks. Inoue was just as reckless as Kimura.

But now she seemed completely aware of the enemy sitting just a few meters away. They were in danger of being caught. He knew he should have put up an argument against waltzing into the enemy’s den. It was as much his fault as it was hers.

So he lightly set the chopsticks down and prepared to stand. He wasn’t about to let them be captured so easily. Reishi began to gather around his glove in preparation to fight their way out.

“You should finish eating,” Kajomaru said, halting his movement. “The mess hall will be closing in an hour. Eat now, or you’ll be starving again in the middle of the night.”

He didn’t move to comply. Rather, he stared at the remaining noodles. “I don’t understand.”

“My orders are to protect our squad members from being harmed. Right now, you’re simply having a meal. As long as you don’t intend to hurt anyone in this squad, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Uryu looked at him out of the side of his eye. “Shouldn’t you be apprehending any ryoka you come into contact with?”

Kajomaru placed both palms flat on the table and stood. “Those aren’t my orders,” he said, turning towards the door. “My captain expressly ordered me to ensure our subordinates’ safety. That is all.”

Without waiting for a proper response, he strode out of the hall. Uryu watched his back closely, expecting him to usher a command for the Soul Reapers to surround them. When he didn’t, it only left him even more confused. He faced Inoue, whose expression told him that she was just as baffled.

They were essentially given permission to stay. To eat and relax, as long as they don’t cause anyone harm. Why?

“We’ll finish our food and leave,” he said, picking back up the chopsticks. “No need to risk lingering in case they’re trying to lure us into a false sense of security.”

She nodded and scooped up a spoonful of rice. Her cheeriness was gone, replaced with a somber expression. At least now she understood how risky her idea truly was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one prevented them from leaving the barracks. They passed multiple Soul Reapers who merely went about their duties without giving them a second glance. Uryu couldn’t make heads or tails of it. They should’ve been caught, bound, and dragged off to a prison cell.

For nearly two hours, they walked in silence. Inoue’s brows were knitted together. She must be lost in thought, grappling with what they had just learned. He shrugged it off. There was nothing of importance to what the Soul Reapers had said. For all he knew, it happened centuries ago. An old tale much like the ones his sensei told him and had no bearing on the present.

When he felt like they put enough distance between themselves and the 13th division, he began scouting out a place to rest. They turned onto a street lined with buildings. It was symmetrical with every building being the same square shape and off-white color. They led up to a much larger structure, which had a sign that was held up by the tongues of a three-headed lizard.

“’The Charismatic Dr. Mayuri Kurotsuchi’s Magical Clinic,’” Inoue read after walking up to it. “A doctor’s office?”

“I doubt that. Especially considering it’s labeled as a ‘magical clinic.” Uryu studied the building. It didn’t look much different than the rest of the Seireitei’s architecture: white stone structures with either orange or blue tiled roofing. There weren’t any lights on, the entire building shrouded in darkness. Chills went down his spine. “It appears to be closed, but perhaps we should take shelter in one of the smaller buildings.”

She nodded in agreement and followed him into the nearest building. It was pitch black. Uryu stepped in, his arms outstretched. His fingers made contact with glass, and something tipped back. It responded with a sloshing noise, and he recoiled his hand. Gently, he felt around, finding glass jars lined up on a shelf.

“Careful, Inoue,” he whispered. “There’s a lot of glass in here.”

“I’ll be sure not to knock anything down. Thank you.” They gingerly settled on the floor. “Tsubaki!”

A flash of light lit up the room briefly as the little fairy flew out of a hair clip and into her hand. He had been injured in combat yesterday. While his wound had stopped bleeding, he had yet to regain consciousness.

Uryu pulled out the makeshift bed he had helped her make, and the tiny creature was set on top. She called out for Shun'ō and Ayame. They formed the healing shield over their fallen comrade, casting an orange light around them. Inoue held her hands over all three of them, her eyes growing misty.

Such a mysterious power. Uryu had never heard of a human gaining anything like it. They weren’t related to a Quincy’s, but rather, they appeared closer to a Soul Reaper’s kidō. As the gash gradually filled in, he took in their surroundings. There was some kind of fluid in those glass jars.

The fairy--Tsubaki--stirred, letting out a faint groan. His eyes fluttered open, but quickly closed once more. Inoue emitted a quiet sigh.

“Your healing power’s getting stronger,” Uryu said, pointing to where the wound had been the deepest. “It’s almost completely gone.”

Her gaze flicked to him and back to Tsubaki. She nodded, her fingers curling slightly. “But it shouldn’t have happened. Yoruichi always said that our powers were linked to our hearts. It was because of that that Tsubaki got hurt. I’m so sorry.”

He grimaced at the sound of her voice breaking. It was true, if she hadn’t hesitated, then her attack wouldn’t have failed. She could have easily managed a Soul Reaper so pathetically weak, if she had had the desire to do so.

It was clear. Inoue did not belong on a battlefield.

She herself started to realize that painful fact. Her shoulders and head were sunken, as if carrying a massive weight. But her expression remained determined, focused completely on Tsubaki.

Uryu had to look away from the sadness draping over her. “It’ll be alright,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes at a jar. Something round was floating within it. “Don’t forget that it was your shield that saved us. Both from the kototsu and cushioning our fall.”

One of the fairies chimed in, “He’s right. You’ve come a long way since you first called upon us. If you just keep listening to your heart, one day, you’ll be able to call us without reciting the chant.”

“Hm.” A faint smile flickered on Inoue’s face from their encouragement.

It grew quiet, with only an occasional groan from Tsubaki to break the silence. Uryu leaned closer to the jar. There was something unsettling about it, about how the fluid glowed from the light of Inoue’s power. Then there was that round, irregular object that his vision focused on.

A floating eyeball.

“Ah!” he jerked away from it, his head darting to the other jars. A nose and the other eye were easily recognizable. On a far shelf, the jars had dark blobs floating within them. Their shapes weren’t so easy to discern, but...

“What’s wrong, Ishida?” He whirled around to face Inoue, who looked at him with a soft gaze. “Are there enemies nearby?”

“N-no. No one’s coming. Forgive me for worrying you.”

The look she gave him screamed that she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press the matter. Instead, she returned her focus to Tsubaki. Somehow, the jars escaped her notice. That was for the best, for such things were sure to give her nightmares.

Uryu looked back at them, swallowing against the uneasiness in his stomach. What had they stumbled upon? Someone’s twisted collection? Whoever this Dr. Kurotsuchi was, he certainly wasn’t a physician. Or he shouldn’t be.

His eyes narrowed into a glare that he turned to the floor. If being a doctor meant chopping people up, he wanted nothing to do with it. That decision was made a long time ago, and seeing the preserved remains of some unfortunate soul only strengthened his resolve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uryu insisted on moving before the sun, mostly because he couldn’t remain in the shelter of horrors any longer. He adamantly refused to let Inoue see what he had. The light of day wouldn’t make it any less frightening.

So they began again, wandering around the Seireitei, unimpeded due to their disguises. Everyone thought they were lower ranked soldiers, out looking for the intruders. They’d be half right. They were looking for a ryoka.

Kimura’s ribbon stayed within Uryu’s sights. His hand twitched every so often as if to grasp it. She hadn’t moved in a while, staying in one spot for hours. Why? Had she been injured somehow? Or was she weak from hunger or dehydration. Dozens of scenarios raced through his mind, and none of them were pleasant.

“Are you worried about the others?” His head snapped towards Inoue and her question. A serious look greeted him. “It’s okay if you are. They’re our friends.”

He regained his composure by pushing up his glasses. “I’m not worried. Besides, Kurosaki, Sado, and Shiba aren’t my friends.”

“What about Tamiko? Do you see her as a friend?”

That... was a good question. He froze mid step, his finger lingering on his glasses. She had shown him so much kindness, more than any other person--besides his sensei--ever had. He _should_ see her as a friend. But did he truly deserve her friendship?

“I don’t think it matters if you view the rest of us as your friends or not,” Inoue continued with a firm nod. A smile broke her serious expression. “If Tamiko’s the only person you can see as a friend, then that’s okay. Because she cares about you.”

His hand dropped to hang at his side. He thought back to every kind act she committed. To how she wrapped his hand with her uniform ribbon. To her rushing towards him after he had saved Kurosaki. To when he woke up with her nearby.

Kimura cared, even when he had tried to antagonize Kurosaki. That was why he needed to do everything he could to get back to her and make she would stay safe. His right hand tightened into a fist. He turned on his heel and resumed walking. “Let’s go, Inoue. We should keep moving, if we are to find the others.”

Inoue followed with a soft sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comfort didn’t exist. Not in such a dark, tiny space. Tamiko groaned, attempting to stretch out her limbs as she turned to lay on her other side. Various objects thudded and clanged together, and she retracted her body. Too late. A broom handle banged against her side, and one of the buckets crashed on her shoulder, having been knocked off the wall.

What a bright idea, trying to sleep in a cleaning closet. She had stumbled upon it right at sunset. Weary from darting down various streets, she had leaned against the wall. There was a slight indent in it, big enough for her hand to fit in. It had the same feel as the ones in the doors at the Urahara Shop, and it slid open in the same way.

A small room, filled with mops, brooms, buckets, and other cleaning supplies greeted her. There was barely enough floor space for her to lay down, curled up into a ball around her backpack. But it was better than trying to rest out in the open. Although, if anyone desired to do some nighttime cleaning, she’d be easily discovered.

The broom and bucket were knocked aside. She sat up and strained her eyes to see in the pitch black room. How long has she been trying to sleep like this? An hour? Two? Either way, it felt far longer.

She leaned forward to open the door a crack. Moonlight streamed in. It was the middle of the night. With a tired whine, she shut the door and made a new attempt to doze off on the dirt floor. Her eyes stung, and she rubbed at them. How could she have forgotten her lenses’ case?

In that moment, she realized how disgusting she felt. A greasiness clung to her hair, and a persistent itch irritated the back of her ears. Her underarms stunk like sweat. What she wouldn’t give for a long bath. The scent of soap and bath oils, soaking within a tub of hot water.

What she wouldn’t give for her bed. Soft blankets. A cool pillow under her head. And the handmade red panda pressed against her chest. If she were there now, then everyone else would be in their beds as well. Safe and sound.

She curled into a tighter ball, trying to grasp their reiryoku or pressures. Orihime’s soft reiatsu came to her. It was calm, but sad. Why? Was she healing someone? Uryu? Tamiko shook her head, refusing to believe that. He was too smart to tangle with someone who could injure him.

Unless he had no other choice.

Again, she tried to shake the thoughts from her head. She would have known if he had been in such a battle. The only times she had been able to sense her friends clearly was during combat. So far, he had been in only one battle.

She hasn’t done anything to help them. The whole reason why she came was to help keep her friends from getting hurt or being killed. They were still alive, but not because of anything she has done. She’s only taken out a few Soul Reapers. Such a small number of weak peons within a much larger system. And even then she still got hurt, her cheek aching anytime she opened her mouth.

Distant voices bled through the walls, tearing her away from her thoughts. She rubbed at an eye and pushed herself up. She opened the door to early morning light, time having slipped by. The voices grew louder as the reiryoku of three--no, four people approached. Hastily, she slid the door until there was only a tiny sliver of light pouring in. Through it, she saw an interesting procession pass by.

Two captains, identifiable by their robes, along with two Soul Reapers. Tamiko shrank back, expecting their pressures to overwhelm her like Aizen’s had. But they were subdued, and she leaned closer to the slit in the door, catching little glimpses of them.

One captain was massive, even larger than Chad. The other one wore his dark hair in braids. There was a lieutenant’s badge on one of the subordinates’ arm, and the other had three scars running down the side of his face.

They carried something between them. A gurney, covered by a white sheet. The shape beneath was too flat to be a person, and the sheet draped around hard edges. It almost looked like... a Zanpakutō. Why were they carrying that in such a manner? They were walking slowly, somberly. Was this some kind of mourning ritual for a Soul Reaper?

“First a ryoka invasion, and now this,” the lieutenant mumbled, disbelief heavy in his voice. “I never thought someone would be able to get to him.”

“It goes to show you that captains aren’t indestructible. They’re just as mortal as the rest of us,” the scarred Soul Reaper replied.

“Could’ve had me fooled.”

The captain in braids let out a breath. “This is a serious problem. We won’t be able to figure out who killed him until the ryoka are dealt with. Best we do so quickly, before too much more blood is shed.”

“Agreed.” The massive captain’s voice echoed, as if he was speaking within a hollow bucket.

“Captain Tōsen, does this mean you’re going to get involved in the fighting?” the scarred man asked.

“Such a thing is inevitable,” the braided captain said. “It is true that wars should be avoided at all costs, but there are moments where it is necessary. I despise those moments.”

The massive captain again uttered his agreement. “First, we need to make sure none of the ryoka were responsible. The order should already have been sent out to capture and lock up them up rather than strike to kill.”

“There are at least six intruders. Captain Kyoraku already has one in his custody, leaving five still at large.”

 _Someone has been captured? Who?_ Tamiko clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the squeak working its way up her throat.

“Could a ryoka really be capable of such an act?” The scarred Soul Reaper’s voice grew quiet, as if he was in a state of shock. “Captain Aizen had unmatched spiritual power.”

She never heard the answer, as the voices grew distant once more. Her hand shakily shut the door, and she pressed her forehead against it. A captain was dead. How has his lieutenant taking the news? If her reaction to Abarai’s injury was any indication, Momo should be completely heartbroken by now.

Tamiko shook her head, wondering why she cared. The Soul Reapers were supposed to be their enemies, right? That included Momo and Abarai. In fact, she should be glad Aizen was gone. It meant one less captain to worry about. Especially if he had been the ‘mad genius’ Urahara had spoken about.

No, her biggest worry now was which one of her friends had been captured. They mentioned six people. That was herself, Ichigo, Uryu, Orihime, Chad, and Ganju. Yoruichi must have gotten overlooked, but she did appear as an ordinary cat. As far as Tamiko knew, everyone else was still together. Only Chad had been on his own. Was he the one who fought this Captain Kyoraku?

She needed to know. Needed to pick herself back up and resume traveling. After stretching out her aching muscles, she gathered her things and set out once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another setting sun. And another day where Tamiko ran through streets that looked exactly the same. She couldn’t remember which direction was which. Even using Sōkyoku Hill proved to be useless. It didn’t seem any closer than it had when she started out that morning.

During that time, Ichigo and Ganju both fell. Ichigo to an immense reiatsu that caused her to freeze in her steps even from kilometers away. Ganju to an all familiar pressure: Byakuya Kuchiki. And now they were gone from her senses. Likely captured.

If that were the case, that meant half of her friends were locked up somewhere. Locked away, being blamed for the murder of a captain they never even saw.

Tamiko pressed her back against a wall and sank into a crouch. Tears burned in her eyes. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be here. She wasn’t a hero.

So what made her think she could come help rescue Rukia? Help prevent her friends from getting hurt or killed? Well, she hasn’t been much help at all.

 _Useless_. She has been useless through this entire invasion. Only able to stand back and watch Ichigo fight Jidanbō. Caused them to explode and be separated. Sure, she took out a seventh seat, but her kind act nearly got her a fireball in the face.

And now three of her friends were out of commission. It was only a matter of time before Uryu and Orihime were captured as well. What would happen to them? Would they be executed like Rukia? Or forever locked away for trying to save someone’s life?

Tamiko’s knees came up against her chest, and she buried her head deep within her arms. She didn’t care anymore. Let someone find her. Friend. Foe. It didn’t matter. At least that way, she wouldn’t be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this was delayed for so long! I slacked off a lot while writing this chapter, so I have no one to blame but myself. There are still plans to get chapter 17 up on the 31st. Will Uryu be able to reach Tamiko before a certain captain does? Stay tuned!


	17. To Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uryū rushes to Tamiko's aid, only to find her within the clutches of the one responsible for his sensei's death. Can he keep her from meeting a similar fate? But... at what cost?
> 
> Warning: Graphic depictions of dismemberment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

These ryoka couldn’t come at a better time. It had been five years since his last experiment ended, and he was itching to begin a new project. These intruders had been strong enough to break through the membrane and take down high ranked officers. But they were so young. Practically toddlers.

A pair of them drew his attention the moment they strolled into his territory. The girl used an interesting power, using little creatures to heal another one. How he’d love to get her into his lab. But the boy has yet to reveal his abilities. There was a strange glove on his arm that teamed with lingering reishi. How he used it for combat, he couldn’t be sure.

So he trailed them, waiting for the boy to reveal himself. He never did. The two had disguised themselves as Soul Reapers and managed to evade notice. Honestly, how could they slip by with such pathetic disguises? An entire day has passed without so much as a spike in reiatsu from either of them. How dull.

“Master Mayuri,” a soft voice spoke behind him, and he turned to face his creation.

“You better have a good reason for disturbing me, you insufferable brat.”

“The officers you sent out have found a ryoka. They’ve engaged her in combat.”

A third ryoka? Well, this was a pleasant surprise. And an excellent way to bring out the boy’s abilities. Judging by how protective he was of the girl accompanying him, it was easy to surmise he’d jump to another one’s rescue.

“Then come along, Nemu,” he said, stepping in the direction of the rising pressures. “Let us see how this ryoka fights.”

Sure enough, his six underlings found a girl not much older than the other two. They were driving her towards the barracks as ordered. How had he not noticed her sooner? She must be able to hide away her reiryoku. Only experienced Soul Reapers were capable of demonstrating such control. Even some seated officers struggled to do so.

And to his delight, she was fighting back. With a staff of reishi, of all things. A spirit weapon, but he thought only Quincies could wield such things. She couldn’t be one, as there was only one pure blood Quincy left on record. All of the others were gone, now a rare breed. But he was through with studying them. His last specimen was now preserved and packed away in case a new discovery happened to come along.

His operating table was bare and ready for a new test subject. And that girl fighting for her life against a half a dozen enemies would be the first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 _Damn._ Kimura was in danger. There were six red ribbons surrounding her single white one. Uryū and Inoue sprinted through the streets in their attempt to reach her. She couldn’t be much further, as he swore he caught the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Around the corner, and he’ll see her. Already, the reishi was gathering within his right hand. _Please, let her be there._

They turned down a street that buzzed with boisterous laughter rather than the sounds of combat. The source of which was a lit up building, bearing the sign, ‘Kotori’s Place.’ Judging by the noise and smells coming from it, it was a bar. His heart sank, realizing it may have been the source of the aroma. Perhaps they weren’t as close to her as originally thought.

A pair of Soul Reapers stumbled out the door. Their faces were noticeably flushed, and they had their arms around each other. One clutched a bottle that he took a swig from. The lights of the bar glistened on his bald head.

He pulled the bottle away with a satisfied sigh. “This is exactly the medicine I needed!”

“Yes, it is a shame that the hospital staff refuses to serve any hard beverages. Their food would be far more palpable with a good wine.” His partner flicked his head, causing the feathers around his eyes to flutter.

Uryū clenched his fists. There wasn’t time to mess with the likes of them, not while Tami--Kimura--was in danger. He strode with purpose by them, noting the bandages poking through the bald-headed man’s shihakusho. They had to be two of the Soul Reapers one of the others took out earlier in the invasion. Doubtful they would pose any threat.

“Hey!” The sake bottle was thrusted into his path. He glanced up and met the man’s raised eyebrow. “Where’s your Zanpakutō? Haven’t ya heard? We’re under wartime orders.”

“It is strange for two Soul Reapers to be walking the streets unarmed. Especially with four ryoka still unaccounted for,” his companion agreed, standing on his toes to look over at Inoue.

Something about the way he was leering at her made Uryū’s right hand twitch. He moved into his line of vision, stating, “Never mind her. And you two are ones to talk. Drinking under wartime orders.”

The bald-headed man’s eyes twitched into a glare. “Hey, we’ve just been released from the hospital. We deserve a drink or two.”

“Looks like more than a drink or two.”

It probably would be wise to hold his tongue, but they were getting under his skin. Uryū glared at them, muscles tightening with the urge to run. Ta--Kimura’s reiatsu spiked. He needed to get to her before she got hurt.

“How can you just walk off without your swords?” the bald man asked, seeming to not notice the snide comment. “What are you? Some losers from Squad 4?”

“Thirteen,” Inoue spoke up, stepping to stand beside Uryū. “Our superior officer sent us out on a scouting mission, so we left our blades at the barracks.”

“Rookies. You should be ashamed to call yourselves Soul Reapers, up and leaving your Zanpakutō at home.”

“Now, Ikkaku,” his friend said with a soft smile at Inoue. He put a hand on his chin, appearing to hold himself higher. “You mustn’t be rude. We’re in the presence of a lovely lady, after all.”

Ikkaku rolled his eyes at that. “Tch. Well, they’ve got a lot to learn.” He patted the hilt of his sword. “I never go anywhere without Hōzukimaru. It’s like walkin’ around without any limbs.”

“We’ll keep it in mind. Now if you’ll excuse us.” Uryū gently took a hold of Inoue’s arm and steered her away from them. He froze, and his head snapped up.

Tamiko’s reiatsu faltered. It and her ribbon completely disappeared. His heart skipped a couple of beats. He held his breath, hoping that it would ripple back into view. Just before he could break out into a run, a feather nearly poked him in the eye.

The Soul Reaper leaned in close to him, as if to take in every detail of his face. Uryū leaped back, nearly knocking Inoue off balance. She squeaked, and he hastily apologized. When he looked back up, the ribbon reappeared. Kimura was still alive, and air filled his lungs once more.

“You know, it’s awfully dangerous for two unarmed Soul Reapers to be out on a scouting mission without a Zanpakutō between them. Why don’t we accompany you? Act as bodyguards while you complete your ‘mission.’” His eyes narrowed at them, and a knowing smile spread across his face. He knew who they were. Their lack of weapons must have given them away.

Uryū and Inoue exchanged a glance. She stiffened, but looked the Soul Reaper directly in the eye. “Why do you want to help us? Aren’t we your enemies?”

“Hang on. You mean these two are...?” Ikkaku mumbled, head darting between them.

“Yes, they are ryoka,” his companion answered. “Two of Kurosaki’s friends, am I correct?”

Inoue straightened a the name. “How did you know?”

“I have my ways.” He gave her a beaming smile, a glint lighting up his eyes.

“Then I take you two must have fought him?” Uryū asked, hoping to divert the Soul Reaper’s attention away from her.

“Ha! More like he kicked my ass. Gotta get him back for that.” Ikkaku smirked, pointing to the bandage on his chest. “And he gave our captain one hell of a grand time, didn’t he, Yumichika?”

“That’s right,” his companion said. “And because of that, we’ve agreed to help him out.”

“’Help him out?’” Uryū asked, studying the pair. “Just what are you talking about?”

The man now known as Yumichika folded his arms across his stomach. “You see, our captain was also defeated by Kurosaki.”

“H-he defeated a captain?”

Inoue let out a breath. Her eyes immediately filled with worry. Even though Yumichika was claiming Kurosaki as the victor, there was a good chance he could be gravely injured from the fight. It would explain why his pressure vanished earlier.

“Also,” Yumichika said, pressing a hand to his chin, “there’s a rumor going around that a ryoka took down our Seventh Seat, Ringo Nagakura.”

Ikkaku erupted with laughter, swinging the bottle of sake around. “Oh, yeah! Lost to a ryoka girl. She totally put him in his place! Good. That loser needed to be taken down a peg or two.”

“Tamiko,” Inoue whispered, looking past the Soul Reapers. It was clear she was well aware of the danger her friend was in. Uryū gave her arm a light squeeze as reassurance.

“So you see,” Yumichika continued, “we are more than willing to offer our services to you and your group. You’re trying to get to one of your friends now, if I had to wager a guess.”

He pushed up his glasses, eyes darting between them and the direction Kimura was in. “Yes, it appears she’s in combat with several enemies. She’s fighting on her own, and I--we--must get to her.”

Hopefully, his desperation didn’t show in his voice. His mind whirled with the images of her getting hurt. The result would be her being dragged away to some prison cell. Why did she have to come? Like Inoue, she didn’t belong on a battlefield. She belonged at school, laughing and talking with her friends. A normal life, where she wasn’t fighting armed men and living on the streets.

“I understand. We best get moving then, before they gain the upper hand.” Yumichika turned and began to walk briskly towards the fight.

Ikkaku took a long drag of sake before tossing the bottle over his shoulder. It exploded into glass shards behind him. He cracked his knuckles and followed. “Good. I’m ready for a little action after sitting on my ass for three whole days.”

Uryū shook his head and sprinted after them with Inoue on his heels. The idea of receiving help from two Soul Reapers turned his stomach. They were responsible for his sensei’s death. Maybe not these two specifically, but they were complicit.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice. Tamiko needed him. Reishi gathered around his glove once more, ready to strike down any who dared put their hands on her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sped off ahead, gathering reishi under his feet. Tamiko was close. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon tickled Uryū’s nose, and they were downwind from the bar. Any second, she would appear before him. She and several Soul Reapers that surrounded her.

Instead, he arrived at a dead end. Of course. Whose bright idea was it to design a city like a maze? It was infuriating and getting him nowhere. And so he leaped up to the wall. He scanned the landscape, searching for the yellow glow of her weapon.

She wielded a spirit weapon, of sorts. It was like his Kōjaku, except the reishi came from the reiryoku in her body rather than what was in the atmosphere. A broken staff was her catalyst instead of a cross. How could she have obtained such a power? Was it the same way Inoue had gained hers? He recalled Yoruichi saying something about their power being connected to their hearts. But what did that mean?

The sound of panting reached his ears, and he whirled around. Inoue and the Soul Reapers had caught up to him. She had her hands on her knees. “Wow, you move so fast, Ishida. I hope I haven’t been holding you back.”

“No. Not at all, Inoue,” he hastily said in the hope of quelling her worries.

Ikkaku and Yumichika weren’t winded at all, despite their drunken and injured states. They met his gaze with narrowed eyes.

“That looked an awful lot like hohō,” Yumichika said, hair drifting to the side as he tilted his head.

“I thought only Soul Reapers could learn that.” Ikkaku leaned forward, a hand on his hip while the other pointed at him. “You’re a ryoka, so what gives?”

Uryū returned to his search for Tamiko. “If you think I’m a simple ryoka, then you’re mistaken. I’m a...”

A few meters away, Tamiko came into view. She was backing away from five armed Soul Reapers--she must have incapacitated one. Uryū immediately noted the blood matting her hair and trickling down the side of her face. Sweat glistened from the glow of her yellow reishi, her face a mask of desperation. One of the Soul Reapers darted forward, and her weapon rose to meet his swinging blade.

The bow materialized in Uryū’s hand while she disarmed her adversary with a burst of reiatsu. Her staff collided with his head, sending him down in time to dodge a kidō blast. Despite the injuries, she was holding her own. But for how much longer?

He pulled back an arrow just as her back hit a wall. The four Soul Reapers swarmed around her, their laughter ringing out. Damn. They were too close, and he couldn’t get a clear shot without hurting her.

When a Soul Reaper grabbed her arm, he exploded. His entire body combusted into bright orange flames. Tamiko’s scream pierced the air. The other three joined in when fire burst from them as well. She was lost within the inferno, her voice fading away.

“Ishida!” Inoue cried behind him. “What happened? I heard Tamiko scream!”

His hands shook, the arrow and bow disappearing. There was no time to think. He needed to get down there. Whirling around, he barked at the two Soul Reapers, “Take Inoue away from here! Get her as far away from this area as you can.”

“Hey! Just what do you think you’re doin’, ordering us around like that?” Ikkaku demanded, a vein pulsing on his head.

“Just do it! You both agreed to be our bodyguards, remember?”

Yumichika took Inoue’s arm, his eyes glinting with understanding. “We did say we’d do what we could to help, Ikkaku,” he said with a flick of his head.

“But I wanted to see some action. Not babysit.” He took her other arm and started to pull her back the way they came.

“No! I want to stay and help! _Please._ ” Inoue screamed, trying to wrench herself from their grasps. It was useless. They dragged her away, her protests fading in the distance.

It was for the best. No way could Uryū let her see the horror that awaited him. He leaped down as the smoke was beginning to clear.

The scent of charred flesh filled his nostrils. All around the street, laid the gory remains of the Soul Reapers. One poor soul was still alive, missing half of his body. They groaned weakly, hand twitching towards a smoldering heart.

Uryū swallowed against the bitter taste flooding his mouth. He turned his focus to where Tamiko had been standing. She was gone. The burnt, bloody remains of her backpack leaned against the wall, and a few inches away was her staff, reduced to ashes. She managed to escape? But how? The first Soul Reaper that exploded had her in his grasp. There was no way she could have gotten away from that.

“Kimura!” He whirled around, scanning the ground and rooftops for any sign of her. There wasn’t a soul. Not even her ribbon could be seen. Did that mean...?

He pushed the horrible thought aside. If she was dead, her body would be there with the others. She had to be alive, but she likely fell unconscious. His legs sprinted forward on their own accord.

“Where are you? Please, say something! Tamiko!”

His heart beat once, twice, and then a small voice whimpered. Her weakened reiatsu came to him, and he took off towards it.

Rounding the corner, he found her, clutched within the arms of an unknown woman. Tamiko was drenched in blood. Pieces of what looked like flesh clung to her hair. Smoke wafted from her clothes. She had several burns on her face and arms, the worst one being a cluster of blisters in the shape of a hand. Tears were streaming from her clenched eyes. They slowly opened and widened at the sight of him.

“U-Uryū,” she rasped and grimaced in pain. “You... have to run. Please.”

The sight of her shook through his soul. His stomach pitched, forcing him to swallow several times to keep from being violently ill. Once he regained his composure, the bow formed in his grasp.

“I’m not going to run.” He pulled back an arrow, aiming it at the woman’s head. “Let her go!”

Her expression remained unchanged. She didn’t even flinch at his threat. He noted the armband. The woman was a lieutenant, but he couldn’t see a sword hilt. Likely her skills were in hakuda or kidō. If he could get Tamiko away from her, she should be easy to dispatch.

Reiatsu surged behind him. He sidestepped in time for a scythe to soar past his ear. As it retreated, he turned his arrow towards the attacker.

A strange man--if he could be called that--twirled the scythe by what looked like a ligament. It led back to where his left ear should be. His overall appearance was completely absurd, covered in black and white paint. He wore gold cones on his chin and right ear. The only thing that could be considered normal about him was the white haori. Even his Zanpakutō was in an odd position, hanging between his legs.

His teeth remained visible, but they clearly turned down in a frown. “Ooh, a Quincy,” he said. “A rare breed. I haven’t seen a live one in years. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I finished studying your kind. So please, step aside.”

“’Finished studying?’” While Uryū kept his eyes on him, his senses remained on Tamiko’s weak reiatsu behind him, ready to act the moment it faded. “What do you mean by that? Who the hell are you?”

“What? How can you not know who I am? After I so graciously allowed you to sleep in one of my storage facilities.”

His eyes widened with understanding. “Then you’re...”

“A mad genius,” Tamiko muttered, her pressure rising. Uryū chanced a glance at her as she squirmed against the woman’s hold. “Run, Uryū! Get away before he...” Her words trailed off when the woman’s hand went over her mouth.

A bone chilling chuckle escaped the captain. “Seems she knows full well who I am.” He folded the scythe into another gold cone that sat against his right ear. His reiatsu shook the air. “I’m the second Chief of Research and Development and the Captain of Squad 12, Mayuri Kurotsuchi!”

So it was him. The twisted collector, a scientist. If that was the case...

Uryū tightened his grip on the bow. “What do you intend to do with Tamiko?”

He tilted his head to the side. “You must be dense, if you need to ask such a question after learning my identity. She’s to be my new research subject, of course. Her power intrigues me. But you have nothing to fear. I’m always gentle with the females.”

The arrow launched straight for his creepy grin. He disappeared, and it blasted into the wall behind him. Uryū pulled back another, pivoting as Kurotsuchi stepped up beside the woman and Tamiko.

A long fingernail pressed against Tamiko’s cheek. She tried to jerk away from it, but to no avail. Uryū snarled, “Get away from her!”

With a chuckle, he cupped his hand under chin, forcing her to face him. She spat in his face, but the action made his eyes dance with delight. “You still have some fight in you. Excellent. I like a test subject with a little hope left. It makes the experiments far more interesting.”

It was a risk, but he needed to take it. The reishi gathered under his feet, and Uryū landed on a rooftop overlooking the street. Heart pounding in his ears, he let an arrow fly for Kurotsuchi’s head. Thick dust and debris exploded as it made contact, obscuring his vision. He swallowed, hoping they wouldn’t use Tamiko as a shield if they intended to take her alive.

“Pretty swift.” He jerked around to face an approaching Kurotsuchi. “That was hirenkyaku. Such an advanced Quincy technique. You may be a talented specimen after all, if you were able to master it at such a young age.”

He had extensive knowledge about Quincies? That wasn’t important. A new arrow was pointed directly at him. “Where’s Tamiko?”

“My don’t you have a one-track mind?” He stepped aside, revealing Tamiko and the woman standing directly behind him. “She’s right here. Satisfied?”

The woman had her hand over her mouth once again, muffling a torrent of hoarse screams. Tamiko clenched her eyes shut, her entire body shaking like a leaf.

‘Damn. Her fear of heights,’ Uryū thought. Although, it was tame in comparison to everything else she’s been put through. ‘If only I had used hirenkyaku to reach her earlier, she wouldn’t be in this position.’

He shouted, “Hang on, Tamiko! I’ll get you away from them, I swear it!”

“She must be something special for you to make such a fuss. You’re becoming a bit of a bother. I’m a busy man, you see. Not only do I have countless hours of research awaiting me, I also have to go seek out the other girl that was with you. So I’ll just use the least amount of energy necessary to kill you.” Kurotsuchi put his hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō and slowly pulled it free. “Claw out, Ashisogi Jizō.”

The blade transformed into a deformed, trident-like weapon with the face of a baby just above the hilt. Purple smoke wafted from the baby’s mouth. It wasn’t like that Zanpakutō of that weak Soul Reaper. His had been clear what its abilities were. Uryū hesitated, not wanting to risk his attack being absorbed.

Kurotsuchi rushed towards him, raising the weapon. There was no time to think. He needed to attack before he was struck down, so he released the arrow. As it left his fingers, Tamiko was tossed over the side, the woman leaping to block the attack.

Tamiko shrieked, arms reaching out towards Uryū. He didn’t give it a second thought. The bow dissipated, and he jumped after her. Their hands grabbed hold of each other, his pulling her against him. Both arms wrapped around her to shield her from the coming impact.

A pain seared through his back. His head turned, and he took in the blood dripping from Kurotsuchi’s weapon.

They hit the ground, another pain shooting through his shoulder. He slowly pushed himself up against the wall, pulling Tamiko along with him. She cried into his chest. Her trembling shook through him, intensifying the throbbing from his bleeding wound.

But she was away from them. And he wasn’t about to let her go. “It’s okay, Tamiko. Just a little longer, and you’ll be safe.”

She lifted her head, and their eyes met. His heart shattered at their glassy appearance. He had to do everything he could to end this fight and get her far away, far from anyone who wanted to hurt her.

Kurotsuchi and his lieutenant landed a few feet away. There was a wound on her shoulder, where his arrow must have struck. Uryū prepared himself for the fight to resume, but Kurotsuchi stormed towards her. His fist slammed into the side of her head, knocking her to the ground.

“You fool!” he spat and stomped on her hand. She didn’t cry out, but rather, let out a quiet gasp. “You nearly killed a valuable test subject! Didn’t I tell you not to let her go at any cost?”

“F-forgive me, Master Mayuri.” The woman’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“That isn’t good enough!” He stabbed his Zanpakutō straight into her side, eliciting shrill scream.

_What a monster._

Uryū noticed Tamiko watching the scene with wide eyes. “Look away,” he advised, but she didn’t listen.

Instead, she kept a close watch on Kurotsuchi. When he turned towards them, she pressed herself against Uryū, as if to protect him. Her wounds must be throbbing, and yet, she was thinking of him. Her reiatsu surged, cinnamon overpowering the scent of blood.

“And now,” Kurotsuchi said, holding the the blade directly over their heads, “killing you will be as easy as strangling a child, Quincy.”

“I... won’t let you,” Tamiko got out, between sharp breaths.

He tilted his head to the side, taking her in. “What’s this? You really think you can do something to stop me?”

“I’ll go willingly. Be your test subject. You can put me through whatever experiments you desire. Just leave him alone.”

“Ah, so you’re that kind of person. Perfectly willing to throw yourself into the lion’s den if it means saving a friend. Your self-sacrifice is admirable. However...” He reached out and grabbed her by the hair. She screamed while being yanked from Uryū’s hold. “You have no power to bargain with me.”

“No! Let her go!” When he tried to move his arms to get her back, they were unresponsive. He stared at how they hung uselessly at his sides. “I... I can’t move...”

“Finally noticed? Aren’t you slow. You see, Ashisogi Jizō here rubs the mobility of the limbs of whomever is cut by it.” Kurotsuchi held up his Zanpakutō over Tamiko’s face.

“A tranquilizer.” He didn’t flinch when the tip of the blade jabbed in front of his nose.

“Don’t associate mere tranquilizer with such an intelligent poison. It severs the neural connections between the brain and limbs, only blocking their mobility. In other words...”

The tip moved to Uryū’s left arm. Before it could pierce the skin, Tamiko swung her legs. She kicked at Kurotsuchi’s hand, but it was a useless attempt. He lifted her above his head and tossed her aside like a doll. She let another cry as she slammed into the wall and slid to the ground.

In a mockingly sweet voice, he said, “Now be a good girl and watch. Watch as I bleed your white knight to death.”

Uryū couldn’t do anything as the blade shot through his arm. There was no holding back the screams that tore out of his mouth. His vision darkened. Blood ran down to the palm of his hand.

“See?” Kurotsuchi asked gleefully. “Your brain knows full well that your arm’s being stabbed. Quite brilliant, isn’t it?”

The onslaught continued, his arm being torn to shreds. But then it stopped. Uryū took deep breaths, trying to cling to consciousness. His vision returned just in time to witness Kurotsuchi slashing through Tamiko’s leg and lower abdomen. Her wails cut through the air, and she slammed back into the ground.

No. What had she been trying to do? She should have stayed down.

Blood soaked through her clothes, creating a puddle beneath her. She was crying again, but her voice was nearly gone. He needed to get up, but there was only one technique he knew that would help him do that. Ransotengai, something he had only practiced a few times, but never achieved full mastery with it. He gathered strings of reishi from the air, bundling them towards his limbs.

“You stupid girl. I told you to simply watch!” Kurotsuchi flicked the blood off his sword and loomed over her. “But I will admit, your screams are far more satisfying.”

 _“Leave her alone!”_ Uryū bellowed, drawing his attention back to him.

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘leave her alone.’”

A bored expression appeared on his face, but he stepped away from Tamiko. “You are persistently annoying. Is this an example of that Quincy honor you people are always mumbling about?”

“What?”

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about,” Kurotsuchi said with a roll of his eyes. “Your lot always say the same things up until you die. ‘By the honor of the Quincy, I cannot do this. By the pride of the Quincy, I cannot do that. As a Quincy, I won’t allow it! Quincy this and Quincy that. So annoying.”

Uryū swallowed against his raw throat. He felt certain he has said or thought similar things in the past, but how could he have known that?

A twisted grin spread over his face. His body grew taller with pride. “Don’t you remember? I said that I finished studying the Quincies. I observed them for years! Opened skulls, chopped up bodies, grinded bones. I took their organs and preserved them in all manner of fluids. All until they were nothing more than useless lumps of flesh!”

Horror roared in Uryū’s ears at the man’s words. Those were his experiments, ripping apart the bodies of his victims? Then those body parts he saw...

Sickness churned in his stomach at the realization that Tamiko would be next.

Kurotsuchi continued, a look of disgust wiping away his grin, “And all they could do was go on with their garbage Quincy pride. But one swipe of Ashisogi Jizo, and their words became meaningless.”

Not this time. The reishi tied itself to his limbs. Uryū felt the pain beginning to abate. All he needed was a few more minutes. And it appeared his opponent was more than eager to give him that time, as he continued with his monologue.

“Actually, it wasn’t an easy task. The Quincy species was already near extinct by the time I got my hands on them. All of the remaining pure blood specimens were under surveillance by Soul Reapers. The trick was to grease their palms, so they would be late in rescuing the Quincy from a swarm of Hollows.”

Uryū drew in a sharp breath at his words. He _bribed_ the Soul Reapers? It was his doing. The reason why no one showed up to rescue his sensei...

“So much work. My last one wasn’t worth all the effort. He was a grubby old man who kept screaming out the name of his student. It was utterly disgusting. Do you want to see a picture of him?” Kurotsuchi reached into his shihakusho and pulled out a photograph. “It was taken after the experiments, so his body isn’t quite intact.”

The photograph fluttered into Uryū’s lap. Alarm bells went off in his head, telling him not to look. Curiosity got the better of him, and he looked down, eyes widening.

The corpse in the photo was barely recognizable. Their body was deflated from shattered bones and missing organs. Empty eye sockets stared at the camera. All there was to identify the man were the glasses and his graying hair and beard.

He stared at the photograph, unable to process exactly what he was seeing. Those were the same glasses his sensei wore, and that beard was the same style if a bit stringy and unkempt. But that couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t be possible.

“Perhaps, you’ve seen him recently,” Kurotsuchi muttered, looking at the sky. “I typically save the organs of my specimens for future experiments. And you so happened to spend the night with one. Did you have a nice reunion?”

Bile flooded his mouth at those words. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep from being sick. Uryū wasn’t about to give that madman the satisfaction. Instead, he lifted up his head to look him in the eyes. He let his reiatsu explode around them and rose to his feet. Shock danced on Kurotsuchi’s face.

With as much malice as he could muster, Uryū said, “You ripped apart my sensei--my grandfather! And now you threaten to do the same to Tamiko. _I won’t let you. By the honor of the Quincy, I’m going to kill you.”_

“Oh?”

Uryū tore off what remained of his bloody sleeve and wrapped it around the wound to stem the flow of blood. He looked at Tamiko. Her breaths came in harsh gasps and eyes were clenched shut. The sweat on her forehead glistened in the candlelight. ‘Hang in there, Tamiko. I swear, I’ll put an end to this.’

“Ah, now I know what this is,” Kurotsuchi said, understanding replacing the shock. “Ransotengai. Elderly Quincies were known to employ it so they could keep fighting until they turned to dust. I thought it was a lost art, only existing within the history books. None of the Quincies I ever researched could use it, and here, you’ve mastered it. You are an extraordinary specimen. A genius.”

The makeshift bandage tight around his arm, Uryū tore his gaze away from Tamiko. “Genius? Such a generic term doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“Even if I’m reduced to a corpse, I _will_ avenge my sensei and save Tamiko’s life. My ransotengai is an expression of my desire to fight!”

Kurotsuchi returned his sword to its sheath with a smirk. “You know, I’m beginning to find you interesting,” he said, pulling the scythe back out. “I believe I’ll keep you alive. Then you and the girl can be test subjects together. Wouldn’t you like that?”

The fight resumed, arrows and scythe flying. While Kurotsuchi dodged each of Uryū’s attacks, the scythe sliced through his skin. Blood seeped and dripped from wounds on his legs, stomach, and shoulders, but he fought on. He had to, for her.

A memory came to the surface. It wasn’t long after his mother had fallen to the illness that eventually took her life. Uryū visited her every single day, after training with his sensei. One evening, his father called him into his office.

“I understand you went to see your grandfather again today,” his father had said, flipping the pages of a medical journal. “How many times have I told you to stop going over there?”

“B-but, Father--”

A cold glare cut him off. “ _Don’t argue with me._ It’s pointless to try and save the dead. Let the Soul Reapers take care of them. You should concern yourself with saving the living. Besides, you have no talent in it. The Quincies will go extinct the moment your grandfather passes on.”

Uryū flinched at his father’s harsh words. “No, I...” He swallowed down his argument. “Father, why do you hate being a Quincy so much?”

“Because there’s no profit in it.”

 _Profit?_ All his father cared about was _money?_ It didn’t make any sense to Uryū, so he related the exchange to his sensei the next afternoon.

“There’s some truth to what your father says,” was the answer he received. “These days, being a Quincy doesn’t put food on the table. With a family to support, that’s a big problem.”

“But the...” Uryū’s voice broke.

“You must try to see things from his perspective.”

“I can’t.”

The tears flowed like rain. Uryū bowed his head, letting the sobs shake through him. His glasses fogged up, and he tore them off to wipe away the tears.

“Uryū...”

“I saw them, sensei. The souls of the dead being devoured by Hollows. S-Soul Reapers don’t care, if they allow even one person to become another monster. My father must know that. So, h-how can he say such things?”

His sensei rested a hand on his head. “One day, you’ll understand your father’s point of view, when you find something you wish to protect as well.”

“I want to protect everyone! To become a strong Quincy. That way Father will agree with our ways!” Uryū sniffed, and his grandfather handed him a handkerchief.

“Thank you, Uryū.”

Six years later, and Uryū couldn’t call himself a strong Quincy. Not when he had failed to protect someone, and was the reason why she got injured in the first place. He wouldn’t fail again.

Sweat dripped down his face, his breathing labored. He managed to get one strike on Kurotsuchi, only for him to use a syringe filled with green fluid to recover. Once more, he wasn’t even out of breath. It was becoming increasingly clear: Uryū was fighting a losing battle.

His sensei’s words filled his head, _“A day will come when you’ll understand your father. You’ll find something you want to give everything for. In preparation for that day, I shall entrust you with this.”_

Those words came along with a white box, sealed with a clasp and talisman. The Sanrei Glove, a Quincy artifact enabling the wielder to gain the pinnacle of a Quincy’s powers. Once on, it can never be removed. If he were to remove it, he would gain immense power, but at a cost.

_“Exposure to such a strong flame will burn. Once the power fades away, you will lose access to your Quincy powers.”_

The scythe tore through his ankle. Uryū forced himself to stand through the pain and deflect Kurotsuchi’s continuing attacks. There were no other options. He had to remove the glove. Otherwise, he and Tamiko would be...

He couldn’t finish the thought in fear of the images it would produce.

 _“You must decide if you still want to be a Quincy,”_ his sensei’s words echoed in his mind yet again. _“If you do, understand there will be times when you find yourself in unavoidable battles. Perhaps one that requires power far greater than what you possess. If you understand your father, then use the glove.”_

‘Sensei, I still don’t understand Ryūken. Or what he wanted to protect,’ he thought, reaching for one of the protrusions on the wrist of the glove. Ryūken had failed to protect the living. He let the woman he claimed to love die, failed to keep her safe. ‘But I do know what _I_ want to protect.’

 _Tamiko._ Her smile. Her kindness. Her friendship. He would give everything to ensure she continued to live a happy, healthy life. Why he felt that way wasn’t clear, but it was enough.

His powers for her life, her friendship. Perhaps then, he would finally deserve it.

He snapped off the protrusion. The glove dissolved into particles of reishi. A bright light enveloped him, and reiryoku flooded through him. The particles gathered around parts of his body. White armor encased his chest, left arm, and right shoulder. One wing of reishi flared out from his back. Even the bow in his hand went through a transformation, becoming longer and more metallic in appearance.

The light dispersed into a gust of wind that rippled through his hair and clothes. Kurotsuchi stood in awe, his eyes sweeping to take Uryū in. “What are those clothes? And how did your reiatsu suddenly inflate? I’ve never seen...”

Everything around them began to break apart. The wing on his back grew bigger from Uryū pulling in more reishi to further strengthen himself. He had never felt such power before. All of his pain was gone, replaced by a cold, detached rage. He lifted his right hand, and a giant, white arrow formed that he notched into the bow.

It was fired straight for Kurotsuchi’s legs, but he leaped away in a burst of shunpō. But he wasn’t about to give him a chance to recover. Uryū soared over his head and let a new arrow descend upon him. It exploded into a bright light. When it cleared away, blood gushed from Kurotsuchi’s severed left arm.

Uryū landed before him, hand raised to notch yet another arrow. He could do it. He could end that madman’s life. Tamiko let out a soft groan, and his eyes darted over to her.

She had her eyes on him. They were wide, filled with what he only could assume was fear. He cursed himself, letting her witness such a horrific battle. There was no way he could let her see him kill someone, even if that someone was completely despicable.

“I’ll let you live, if you promise to never show yourself to her or me ever again.” He faced Kurotsuchi, eyes narrowed into a glare. “If not, the next arrow I let fly will have three times the power than the last.”

“Don’t be so cocky! How dare you, a Quincy, taunt me!” he shrieked, gasping the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

What could be his plan be now? His sword’s ability was useless. His wound was bleeding heavily. Uryū watched him closely, not daring to drop his guard.

The sword was pulled free in its released state. Kurotsuchi grinned, holding it directly in front of his face. “Fine. I’ll return the favor, matching power for power. Bankai. Konjiki Ashisogi Jizō!”

“Ban... what?”

His pressure shook the ground. The baby’s mouth opened wide and spewed out a caterpillar-like creature. Its flesh bulged and grew. Giant arms shot out, smashing into the surrounding walls. Uryū stepped back from the ear-piercing wail emitting from the baby-like face.

“This is the end for you.” A purple mist filtered out of the creature’s mouth. “It spews a deadly poison that will kill you in minutes. Such a shame to lose valuable test subjects.”

“I’ll just have to kill you before you can release a fatal amount.”

“Go ahead and try! I can’t wait to see you fail!”

Uryū loaded a new arrow, watching the purple mist start snaking towards them. The giant beast rushed for him, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. He let the arrow fly.

It went straight into the gaping mouth and ripped it in half. The body fell and crashed into the surrounding walls, and the resulting debris obscured his vision. He strained his eyes and senses. Surely his arrow struck Kurotsuchi. Once that smoke cleared...

Tamiko coughed violently, and he jerked towards her. But the smoke prevented him from seeing her as well.

‘Please, hang on a little longer,’ he thought, facing forward once more. ‘It’s almost over.’

The first thing he saw as the smoke started to fade, was Kurotsuchi jerking with each breath. Blood dribbled out of his mouth. A gaping hole in the middle and left side of his body appeared. How could he still be standing with such a fatal wound? Uryū held his breath, waiting for him to topple over.

Instead, Kurotsuchi gasped out a laugh. “Damn.. you, you Quincy bastard!” He raised his broken Zanpakutō and jabbed it into his throat. His entire body splattered apart with blood and green slime. “Too bad for you.”

That sword can also turn anything it cuts into liquid? Uryū should have realized he’d have an escape plan. He readied another arrow.

“It’s useless,” the slime hissed. Several of the piles seeped through the cracks in the flagstones. “I cannot be attacked within this current form. But I will live while you will die. Farewell, Quincy.”

As if on cue, a pain shot through Uryū’s chest. He exploded into a fury of coughs that sent blood shooting out of his mouth. No, the poison was inside him. Then that meant...

Tamiko writhed on the ground a few feet away. Blood burst from her mouth as she retched. The poison must have reached her too. Her wounds were still bleeding, a pool of blood ringing around her. She was breathing fast and harshly. And her skin was pallid.

 _She was going to die._ He had failed to keep her safe, to protect her. His head bowed, and more blood forced its way to the ground in front of him.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he thought, taking a step towards her. ‘I couldn’t save her, sensei. Nor avenge your death. Again, I’ve failed you.’

At least she wouldn’t be dying alone. She was no longer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! I'm so proud I was able to get this chapter up on time. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be finished, as I will be concentrating on my very first commission. Also, tomorrow starts NaNoWriMo! I intend to use it to finish first drafts of as many of the remaining chapters as possible. I may lose my mind before the next month is over. Stay tuned.


	18. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle against Kurotsuchi had been won, but at what cost? Despair wraps its fingers around Uryū and Tamiko as they come to terms with their injuries and being imprisoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

He had his victory. He defeated a captain of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. He did it with the glove his sensei bestowed upon him many years ago. It should have been a moment of crowning glory, one that proved the might of the Quincy. The moment his sensei could look down on him with pride. Uryū should have been able to say he succeeded in becoming a strong Quincy, even if the power was fleeting.

Instead, he faced the end of a life. Any second, the girl he was staggering towards would draw her last breath. The ones she took now were shallow and fast. Her skin was so white, he could almost see through it.

Tamiko laid within a pool of her own blood. Her clothes were burnt. The fabric was completely torn, the cute rabbit character ripped in half. Such an innocent person shouldn’t be in that position. She shouldn’t be at the precipice of death, where her soul would fade way, and her smile along with it.

His friend, the first one he’s ever had. None of his classmates ever paid attention to him unless they wanted help with their homework. It was just as well. He never had much in common with them. All of his concerns laid in becoming a strong Quincy. There wasn’t time for him to waste with a bunch of fools who only talked about crushes, video games, or what they watched on television.

It was easier not to bother with anyone.

Until Tamiko came along, someone who kept to herself in a similar way, rarely speaking a word to anyone. When he finally heard her speak, she had stumbled over her words, too frightened to truly speak her mind. If it hadn’t been for the Hollow attacking her and her sister, she may have remained that way.

He vaguely knew about what happened, having sensed the Hollow the moment it appeared. It would have only taken him a moment to reach them and destroy the monster. But he didn’t. He left it to Kurosaki. That was a big mistake.

No. It was more than that. It was the beginning of the end. The whole reason why Tamiko fell sick. How she, Inoue, and Sado gained their abilities. A Menos had appeared, drawing the attention of the Soul Society and leading to the discovery of Kuchiki. And thus, led them to try such a hopeless mission.

Uryū drove Tamiko to her death.

She was brave, though, if one could call recklessness bravery. She stepped in to stop Arisawa’s attack against that soul, getting herself kidnapped in the process. At the abandoned hospital, she jumped the barrier to try and stop the spirit from becoming a Hollow. Of course she would try to save Kuchiki.

It was clear Tamiko had no regard for her personal well-being when other people were in danger. But he was surprised at how level-headed and calm she could be in such moments. Even against someone like Kurotsuchi, she managed not to panic.

And now they were both dying, dying to that monster’s poison. Uryū should have killed him, taken him with them. He had failed to do that much.

“Quin... Quincy,” a soft voice shattered through his thoughts.

He glanced away from Tamiko, finding the woman laying just a few feet away. Blood also pooled around her body, seeping from the wound that madman had given her. Thanks to that, though, she didn’t pose any threat. As if that mattered now.

She nodded towards Tamiko and continued, “On my left arm, under my badge, there’s the antidote. Quickly. Neither of you will last long without it.”

An... antidote? He studied her before staggering over.

Since she was laying on her left side, he had to lift her up. He leaned her against the wall and reached behind the armband, discovering a pouch sewn into her sleeve. A glass bottle sat inside, and he pulled it out. It was filled with an amber colored liquid that sloshed against the sides as he tilted it.

“Do you think this is a trick?” she asked. “If you’d like, you can put it to my lips, and I’ll take a sip.”

Yet again, he studied her, trying to ascertain if she was bluffing. Her face lacked an expression, but her eyes were soft. He shook his head and stood. “It wouldn’t make sense to trick a dying man.”

His journey to Tamiko’s side resumed. He stumbled over his feet and coughed, clutching the bottle to himself like a lifeline. At long last, he dropped to his knees beside her, taking in her physical condition.

Her breathing was still fast, going in with harsh gasps. The skin around her mouth hasn’t taken on a blue hue yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer. He unscrewed the lid, propped her head up, and tilted the bottle against her lips.

The liquid entered, and she coughed and sputtered. She turned away, spitting up the antidote and drops of blood. He turned her head back, but her mouth clamped shut.

“Come on, Tamiko. You have to swallow!” he yelled, and she responded with a groan. _“Please.”_

More liquid poured into her mouth, and she managed to get it down. He watched her closely, trying to endure the pain surging through his chest. She didn’t cough again, but her breathing was still fast. All he could do was hope it worked. Carefully, he set her head back down.

“Your turn,” he said, preparing to stand and get the bottle to the woman before she succumbed to the poison.

A smile appeared on her face. “That’s kind, but I don’t need it. You see, Master Mayuri created me. I have the same blood as him.”

“The same blood? Then does that mean...?”

“Yes. My name is Nemu Kurotsuchi. I am an artificial soul.”

That made what he did even worse. A father cutting into his own daughter? It didn’t matter if she was an artificial or organic soul, she still felt pain.

Uryū couldn’t resist the urge to cough any longer. His hand flew to his mouth, and blood seeped between his fingers. A whimper cut through his distress, and he looked at Tamiko.

Her eyes were filled with tears. She opened her mouth and rasped, “Please... please drink...”

“Of course. Thank you, Tamiko.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and chugged it down. No wonder she turned away from it. It had a distinct flavor of dirty dishwater with a medicinal aftertaste.

He managed to get down a couple of good gulps before it became too much. His hand jerked the bottle away from his mouth. It slipped from his fingers, shattering against the flagstones. The remaining liquid spread out, mixing in with her blood. Hopefully, they took enough to neutralize the poison.

A hand went to his chest. The pain lingered, but the urge to cough gradually faded away. His stomach churned, but he doubted anything would settle well within it. After a moment, the pain began to ease.

Tamiko still stared at him. She didn’t move, likely still under the effects of the first poison. He reached down with his blood free hand and cleared away the grime from her face. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. “It... hurts so much...”

“Stay with me, Tamiko,” he whispered. “We’ll go find Inoue, so she can heal you. Then we’ll search for the others.”

“I’ll try.” Her face contorted with pain. A couple of tears leaked out, and he caught them with his finger.

“You should hurry,” the woman urged. “Members of my squad will be here shortly. You’ll be captured if you linger.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why are you helping us? Didn’t your captain order for us to be captured and taken to his lab?”

The smile widened on her face. “You didn’t kill Master Mayuri,” she said. “If you had aimed for his head, you would have.”

“That was an accident. I truly meant to kill him.”

“It’s because of that that I’m letting you two go. Please. If you’re worried about me, don’t be. My squad members will help me.”

Uryū nodded and stood. “There’s one thing I need to grab.”

The reishi gathered under his feet, and he sped off to where the fight began. It was still covered in gore. He ignored the corpses. There was nothing he could do for them, but everything he could do for Tamiko.

He snatched the remains of her backpack and found the first aid kit. The plastic was deformed, melted by the intense heat, but he was able to get it open. He also found the bottles of water, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a jacket. Everything was bundled together, and he returned to her.

After kneeling down, he examined every wound on her body. There were several burns, mainly on her face and arms. Thankfully, they were all first degree except one: A second degree burn in the shape of a hand on her right arm.

She had two gashes. The first one was on the side of her head, stretching just above her ear. It mustn’t have been too deep, as it was no longer bleeding.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about the one spanning from just above her knee all the way up to her navel. The deepest part of the wound was on her stomach, but it didn’t seem like any organs had been damaged.

What she needed was a doctor. Only a medical facility would be capable of handling such a wound, but as long as she didn’t lose too much more blood, she shouldn’t die. At least, not within the hour. He needed to get her to Inoue as fast as possible.

Already, pressures from at least seven Soul Reapers were drawing closer, so Uryū had to act fast. He pulled out a roll of bandages. Tamiko let out weak cries when he lifted her in order to wrap them around the gashes. “Sorry, Tamiko.”

The pain she was in must be excruciating. He couldn’t fathom it, nor did he want to. All he wanted to do was take it away--take it and put it on the man who ruthlessly tortured others in the name of science. The man who took pleasure in causing others pain.

He would never be able to get his vengeance on him. That man will be able to walk free from what he did to Tamiko just like many times before. The very thought turned his stomach, so Uryū shoved it aside. It wasn’t important. His priority was making sure Tamiko lived to see the coming sunrise and the countless more that followed.

With their supplies safely tucked in between her stomach and arms, he carefully lifted her against him. She was light, far lighter than the last time he had carried her. That meant she’s lost more weight since they’ve been in the Soul Society. There had been some crackers and dried foods in her bag, so at least she managed to procure some food.

Fresh tears flooded her eyes. He gently pushed her head into the crook of his arm. After making sure she was comfortable, he turned to Nemu Kurotsuchi.

“Thank you, for your help,” he said. “You saved her life.”

She gave another smile in response. “No, you did that. And thank you, for sparing Master Mayuri.”

After everything that monster has done, how could she be happy he still breathed? There wasn’t time to make sense of it. Uryū simply answered with a bow of his head. And then he sprinted away in a blur of hirenkyaku.

For several kilometers, he sped through the streets, attempting to get a read on Inoue’s pressure. He didn’t have any luck in detecting it, and he worried those two Soul Reapers had failed in their self-imposed role as bodyguards. If only he hadn’t let her out of his sight, but it was good she hadn’t paid witness to the horrors they had seen.

“Uryū...” Tamiko whispered, and he looked at her. Red spots were blooming on the bandages. _She was still losing blood._ “You... you’re hurt. Please stop and...” Her words trailed into a gasp.

“Shh... I’m fine. The ransotengai helps to numb the pain in the limbs.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

She nodded towards the blood seeping into the armor just above her head. One of the many places Kurotsuchi’s scythe sliced through him. Now that attention had been brought to it, he felt the pain pulsing across his abdomen.

It was true he wasn’t in much better shape. All of his wounds he sustained in the battle were still bleeding, especially his torn arm; the bandages were beginning to soak through. He wondered which he would succumb to first: blood loss or the loss of his Quincy powers.

_They needed to find Inoue and soon._

Once they did, he’d be able to rest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “You’re the one who has lost a lot of blood. Just rest, Tamiko.”

Her brows furrowed together in confusion. “That’s... my given name.”

Oh. It was. When did he start using it? All he had been able to think about the last several hours was getting to her, to make sure she didn’t get hurt. The breath hitched in his throat, and a slight tremor ran through his body.

He was terrified. He hadn’t felt such fear since his sensei had been killed. And before that, it was his mother’s death and what Ryūken did to her corpse.

Tamiko opened her mouth to say more, but Uryū hurriedly said, “Of course it is. Don’t close friends call each other by their given names?”

A squeak left her at the wan smile he gave her. She stared in wonder at him before reflecting his expression. It quickly faded, replaced with a grimace. “I’m sorry...”

“For what?”

“You had to save me.” Her voice broke, and she turned her head away. “Again. Everyone does. I’m always... unable to do anything. Unable to help. And they get hurt. I... couldn’t stop...”

His feet came to a halt. He moved his hand from her shoulder to her head, pushing her face into his arm to silence her. She made little sobbing noises, and his fingers intertwined with her hair.

“Hush. You need to concentrate on saving your strength.”

She let out a few more sobs before her body stilled. He worried that she passed out, but she moved her head to look at him. With another weak smile, he continued on. Finally, he grasped onto Inoue’s ribbon. She was still far off, but at least he had a general direction.

Tamiko was quiet. The only sounds that escaped her was the occasional sharp breath and whimper. He supposed he should have given her some of the pain reliever, but they needed to get far away from the battlefield quickly.

“You had a...” Her words trailed off into another sharp breath.

Uryū let out one of his own. “What did I just tell you?”

“...a wing,” she finished, craning her neck to look at his shoulder. “Right there. A single, blue wing. Like an angel’s.”

“I’m not an angel.”

“Are too. A guardian angel.”

She was becoming delirious from the blood loss. Her skin was cold and clammy. He hastened his steps. But his limbs were growing heavier, pain coursing through them. The ransotengai was beginning to wear off. A strand of strings fell off and dissipated before they hit the ground.

_If he didn’t get her to Inoue soon, she’d die._

“Some guardian angel I am,” he mumbled, half to himself. “If I had protected you and your sister from that Hollow, you wouldn’t be here right now. I was so blinded with hatred that I couldn’t see what it truly meant to be a Quincy.”

There wasn’t an answer, and he glanced down. Tamiko’s eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. The pain and blood loss must have grown too much for her. He took a deep breath and forged onward. His vision started to blur.

What it truly meant to be a Quincy. It was to protect the souls of the dead from the Hollows that wanted to devour them, thus preventing more from being created. At one point, they attempted to eradicate all Hollows, but the Soul Reapers put a stop to that.

It was just an old story, not unlike the dozens of others his sensei had told him during breaks from training. They didn’t have any bearing on the present, and it did not define what being a Quincy meant to him.

“I remember the first time I manifested a bow,” he said, to keep himself moving. His head was growing light, and he needed to stay awake. “I was five, maybe six. I had tried for months and could barely get a spark. My sensei never stopped encouraging me, reassuring me that it took time to form a proper weapon.”

He had to pause from the excruciating pain running through his left arm. Leaning against a wall, he took several deep breaths to keep from screaming. And, to not lose his hold on Tamiko. It abated, and he pushed away.

His voice barely above a whisper, he continued, “One day, I couldn’t even get a spark. I was just recovering from sickness, and it had kept me from training for nearly two weeks. It was horrifying. I thought for sure I lost my abilities altogether. Sensei told me that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, to give myself time to recover.”

Another pause, as his legs nearly gave out. He stumbled forward, hands tightening on Tamiko. Sweat rained from his face, landing on hers. He gritted his teeth and took a few more steps.

“It was that day he also taught me why a Quincy fights. They fight to protect the ones they care about. I thought about my mother, who took care of me when she herself wasn’t completely well. And the bow formed.”

The sky above began to lighten, signaling the end to a long night. How long had he been walking? Everything blurred around him. His legs were heavy, as if weights were tied to them. And Tamiko felt like she weighed hundreds of kilograms.

“Damn... my time as a Quincy can’t be over. Just a little longer. Please...”

All around them, the world grew brighter. The sun rose over the buildings, painting the sky with bright oranges and pinks. He lifted his head to take it in.

Tamiko was still alive, breathing fast, shallow breaths. How much longer did she have? Hours? Minutes? Or seconds? He had to move, to get her the help she needed. She wasn’t going to die. He _refused_ to let another person die.

As he managed to get his foot off the ground, a powerful reiatsu shook the air. It slammed into him, sending him crashing to his knees.

His eyes widened at the man gliding towards them. The white scarf and black hair fluttered behind him like ribbons. Byakuya Kuchiki stopped, regarding them with his cold gaze.

“So it’s you,” he said in his calm voice. “You were the humans who got in our way back in the World of the Living. Ishida and Kimura.”

Uryū curled around Tamiko in a vain attempt to protect her. It was all he could do. The last of the reishi threads dangled limply. Any moment, they would fall and take her with them. He had nothing left to fight with.

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” he growled, looking Kuchiki directly in the eye.

“You’re powerless to do anything.” Shame and anger erupted through Uryū at those words. His face scrunched into a snarl. “I’ll call for a relief squad. They’ll treat your wounds.”

“I don’t want pity from the likes of you.”

Kuchiki turned away. “It isn’t pity. I’m following orders. All ryoka are to be imprisoned until after the execution. Letting you die now would be breaking command.”

“What happens after that?”

“Central 46 will review everything you and your friends have done and decide appropriate punishment. Imprisonment for life, banishment to the Rukon districts, or execution depending on the severity of your crimes.”

Meaning, they would never be allowed to return home.

Despair squeezed his heart. The last of the threads fell away, fading back into the air. Tamiko dropped out of his arms, and he followed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is an announcement for all in the Seireitei.” Tamiko’s eyes popped open at the sound of a voice echoing around her. A wooden ceiling stared back. “The execution of Rukia Kuchiki will take place in 29 hours. This is the final decision of Central 46 and it is no longer open for appeal. That is all.”

 _‘The execution of Rukia Kuchiki?’_ How could that be? They’ve only been in the Seireitei for...

Tamiko shot up into a sitting position and was rewarded with a searing pain in her abdomen. It knocked her back down into the pillow, while a shriek tore out of her mouth. Her heart thudded in her chest.

Where was she? She was laying in a bed, that much was clear.

Her head turned, taking in her surroundings. There were iron bars separating her from an empty, square room. One window sat in the wall, far higher than she could reach, where rays of sunlight poured in. A prison cell.

Slowly, she lifted her hands. Shackles bound them together, and she wore a white yukata. An IV tube was attached to the back of her hand, leading back to a bag filled with a red lsubstance. A blood transfusion.

‘I was captured,’ she realized, ‘but how?’

Her memories of the invasion flashed by. She had landed and fought alongside Chad--day one. He tossed her over a wall to keep her from fighting, and she wandered down the Seireitei streets alone--day two. A broom closet became her sleeping quarters for a night, and that was where she overheard the news of Aizen’s murder--day three.

So that explained _why_ she was locked away, but not _how._ Not to mention how she sustained her injuries. The pain in her stomach rippled down into her leg. Tight bandages were wrapped around them, arms, and head.

A battle. One that she lost and wound up getting captured, but why couldn’t she remember?

The last thing she recalled was returning to the streets to either reach Rukia or find her friends. Everything else drew a complete blank. Just like when she woke up after the Hollow had killed Machiko.

Her memories had returned gradually, over the course of a week. Always after her friends’ visits. It wasn’t until after Ichigo and Rukia had left that she remembered the Hollow.

But this time, there wouldn’t be any visitors. If she saw anyone, it would be whoever was assigned to treat her wounds. A throbbing went through her heart, resonating with the one on her stomach.

She covered her eyes, the IV tube hitting against her temple. It didn’t matter how she got there. The point was _she was there._ There and injured, so she couldn’t fathom how she would escape. All she could do was wait. Wait for Rukia’s execution. Wait for those in Central 46 to decide the fates of her and her friends.

When someone finally came to tend to her wounds, Tamiko buried herself deeper within the blankets. She refused to move, even when the Soul Reaper began yelling at her. There was no point in cooperating. No point to them keeping her alive only to kill her later.

There was nothing more she could do. She would never see her friends again. Ichigo. Uryū. Orihime. Chad. Rukia. Yoruichi. Ganju. Sango. Tatsuki. Mochi. The rest of her classmates. Her father. Even her mother. And the friends and family of everyone else. They would never know what happened to them.

And Machiko. The last time she saw her was the night she passed on. It was all her fault that she was killed. She just sat by and watched as she was taken away.

Now, Tamiko laid there, waiting for death. A death that would send her soul back into the cycle of rebirth with no memories of the life it once lived. They had lost, had failed.

She had failed to keep her promise to Machiko.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleep was intermittent, only disturbed by whoever kept trying to care for her. They were met with the same result. Tamiko wouldn’t budge. Not for medicine. Not even for water. Nothing could convince her to come out from under the covers.

Finally, someone decided to sedate her. Through sheer force, they got the needle into her arm. When she awoke, the IV was gone and her bandages changed. At least it made it easier for her to curl into a tighter ball, no longer having to worry about yanking the tube out and soaking herself in her own blood.

Thinking of that brought a memory back. A vague one, where she was covered in blood. Must have been during the fight, but it was the only thing that came to mind. Perhaps, she didn’t want to remember what had happened. That whatever it was was so horrifying that her mind blocked it out.

‘More horrifying than my sister being stabbed through the heart by a monster?’ she wondered. ‘Or coming face to face with giant insects, frogs, and dragons? Not to mention a Hollow taller than a skyscraper.’

It was almost funny. The mere thought of going to a high place was enough to make her legs shake. With Hollows, her muscles tightened as if readying themselves for a fight. It was the same with Soul Reapers, but she felt far more reluctant to fight them. Why? Was it because she knew where some of them came from?

A life of toil and starvation. Their only option was to join a military force and enforce the same, tired laws that nobles and absentee king used to keep them in their place. It’s been like that for so long.

That wouldn’t change within a day. Certainly not for a bunch of kids from the World of the Living who thought they could play heroes. They weren’t about to offer them clemency.

Uryū had been right. It was too idealistic to expect this mission to succeed.

What had Urahara been thinking? He probably would have fared better, if he had come with Yoruichi instead. That made her wonder why he hadn’t. Rukia had mentioned he was working outside the law, so did that mean it was too risky for him to enter the Soul Society.

‘He’d probably be recognized on the spot. Then swarmed by enemies.’ But to send a group of kids and a _cat?_ Again, it begged the question as to why he was so invested in saving Rukia’s life. ‘He must have some other purpose for sending us. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.’

Whatever it had been, they failed that as well.

The sound of voices broke through her thoughts, and Tamiko instinctively pulled the blanket over her head. It was tiring, trying to resist the healer. What would Dr. Ishida think, if he saw her like this? Most likely, he’d stroll in, pull the blanket off himself, and watch over the treatment with his cold reiatsu snaking through the air.

“She’s a difficult one,” the voice of the healer spoke. “She’s refusing to cooperate and let us tend to her wounds. We managed to administer a round of healing kidō earlier, but we had to sedate her in order to do so.”

A cough came before a soft, rasping voice, “That’s understandable, given how much she’s gone through. Put yourself in her position. She’s young, injured, and locked away. The poor child must be terrified.” Even more coughing followed his brief speech.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. Today has been one of my better days. May you please open the cell door?”

There was a click of the lock being undone, followed by the squeak of the door. Footsteps shuffled into the room. Tamiko didn’t dare move. She didn’t want to see whoever it was. Likely her captor coming to berate her.

“Would you please give us some privacy?” the man asked. “I shall call if your assistance is required.”

“Yes, of course. I wish you luck in trying to get anything out of her. Doubtful she’ll even utter a sound,” the healer said before closing the cell door and walking away.

Silence permeated the room, only broken with the occasional cough. Clearly, the man was unwell, and yet, he stood there expecting to get information out of her. He was probably wondering if she knew where the rest of her friends were. Joke was on him. She only knew where one friend was, and he was already a captive.

The man cleared his throat before speaking, “Pardon me of disturbing your rest. Allow me to introduce myself. I am captain of Squad 13, Jūshirō Ukitake.”

For the person who locked her up, he sure spoke politely. How sadistic, considering he was likely the one who inflicted the wounds on her. But that didn’t feel right. It didn’t line up with up the healer’s explanation.

So then what was this man doing here?

“You’re probably wondering what it is I’m doing here.” Great, he could read minds. She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “I’ve taken it upon myself to pay visits to all of the captured ryoka, to see if they hold any information regarding Captain Aizen’s murder.”

That also seemed odd. Why would a captain do something he could delegate to a seated officer? And she had been under the impression they were going to wait until after the execution to start investigating the murder.

Ukitake paused, apparently to let his explanation sink in. “Already, I have spoken with three ryoka. One, I have in my division’s prison. He was with a member of Squad 4 and a boy named Ichigo Kurosaki. The boy managed to escape, but my prisoner was wounded by Captain Byakuya Kuchiki.”

 _Ganju._ He’s been captured then, but Ichigo got away? Where could he be?

Tamiko’s hold slacked on the blanket. Her heart ached, longing to hear more.

“The second ryoka I visited is being held in Squad 8’s prison. He was the first to be captured, defeated by Captain Kyōraku. I couldn’t get him to speak much, but he expressed worry for his friends.”

 _Chad._ That wasn’t anything new. But it seemed like he was doing well, despite the circumstances.

She let the blanket go, hands dropping onto the bed. Ukitake had mentioned four of her friends. That left either Orihime or Uryū as the third prisoner. Which one? Her heart pounded in her ears, getting the sense she already knew who it was.

“That brings us to the ryoka I visited a few minutes ago,” Ukitake continued, and she heard him taking a step towards her. “A boy that was captured with you. Captain Kuchiki found the two of you earlier this morning.”

 _Uryū._ He got caught up in the same fight. How injured was he? She needed to know, needed to remember.

They came, one by one, right on command. Every memory from the night before marched through her mind.

A group of Soul Reapers found her huddled against the wall. At first, she didn’t care if she was captured or not. It didn’t matter if she remained free, she wasn’t doing anything to help her friends.

But she sensed Orihime and Uryū, sensed how close they were. She knew she couldn’t give up. Not without a fight.

So she jumped up and faced the group with a renewed determination, but her inaction earned her a slash to the head. She had managed to disable her attacker and one other, but the others backed her into a wall.

They laughed over their success. One person even mentioned getting a promotion from it and grabbed her arm. He smiled widely, pride written on his face.

He exploded into flames. His body burst, drenching her with his blood. It set off a chain reaction, as the other four exploded as well.

Everything past that sped up. Uryū calling for her. A captain attacking him. Being tossed off a roof. Uryū clutching her in his arms. Him being tortured. And the horrific things the captain had done to Quincies--to Uryū’s grandfather.

There had been nothing she could have done. Four Soul Reapers were dead, only used as a trap for her. Another one of her friends had been injured and captured. _It was all her fault._

Sobs erupted through her, ripping apart her stomach. The resulting pain sent a scream up her throat. A gentle pressure fell on her shoulder, and it moved back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Hush, little one. I apologize if I caused you further distress,” Ukitake whispered, and her scream faded into quieter gasps.

Those words. The only person to ever call her ‘little one’ was her father. It was his term of endearment, one he always used whenever he wanted to calm her down or teach her something. He spoke it in a soft, authoritative voice. One that told her how much he cared.

When was the last time she heard him call her that? It could have been just before the accident, but a specific memory came to mind. She couldn’t have been older than six, and she stayed home sick from school. He came home early to look after her. His warm presence had drawn her from sleep. A gentle hand laid on her back, while the other went to her forehead.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he had said. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your rest. Just wanted to check up on you.”

She groaned and rubbed at her burning eyes, asking, “But aren’t you supposed to be at work? What about your patients?”

“I left them in good hands with a colleague.” He pushed aside her hair with a smile. “Right now, you’re my patient. What you need is some water and a nice, hot bowl of my world famous ramen. Sound good?”

“Sure does.” Her voice cracked from a sore throat, and his eyes lit up with adoration. He kissed her forehead before leaving to prepare her lunch.

Her dad always knew exactly what to do and say to put her mind at ease. It felt odd to hear someone else’s voice speak those words. She shrank away from Ukitake’s touch.

“You said that you visited the other captured ryoka,” she whispered into the pillow. “Are... are they alright?”

“All three are doing well. While not minor, their injuries aren’t critical. Like you, they’re being treated by members of Squad 4.”

She let out a breath. The fear that had encompassed her over Uryū’s torture lifted away. He was alright, despite carrying her through the Seireitei with bleeding wounds.

“That isn’t all. The boy I spoke with a few minutes ago was demanding to know about your condition. He refused to answer any questions until he knew how you were doing.”

Of course Uryū was worried. Everyone else had to be as well. What would they say if they saw how she had acted? Having given up all hope when Ichigo and Orihime were still out there. The two of them were sure trying to figure out how to break them out.

Again. All Tamiko could do was wait for someone to save her. She breathed in to steady herself and moved the blanket to peek out.

A pair of gentle, green eyes--not unlike her father’s--peered in at her. They were set in a pale, emaciated face. Equally white hair draped over her. His mouth formed a reassuring smile. “Ah, hello there.”

Once more, she shrank away from him, but she didn’t close the opening. He was a captain alright, wearing the typical white haori, matching his hair and face. His Zanpakutō was strapped to his waist, and she eyed it warily.

“Merely a precaution,” Ukitake said as he folded his arms into his sleeves, effectively concealing the sword’s hilt. “Times being what they are, I couldn’t leave home without it.”

The wartime order. Surely all captains were expected to carry and use their swords when encountering a ryoka. Tamiko faintly remembered the one that struck her and Uryū--how it turned into a massive monster. She wondered what sorts of abilities Ukitake’s had.

Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t gauge his reiatsu. In fact, she couldn’t sense anything at all, not even her own reiryoku. She attempted to call it forth, but nothing came. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and she grimaced at the twinge in her middle.

He frowned at her expression. “They’ve bounded your wrists with reiryoku suppressing cuffs. A sure fire way to keep a prisoner from using kidō to escape. Although, to put them on wounded individuals is a bit excessive.”

“It’s not.” She nudged the rest of her head out from under the blanket.

“How so?”

“I’m a prisoner. My friends and I invaded the Seireitei, injured several officers, and caused extensive damage to property. Criminals should be restrained.”

“It’s an unnecessary measure.”

“And for all you know, I was the one who kill--”

“That’s impossible.”

His words cut her off, face melding into a serious expression. He spoke them with such conviction and certainty.

“After conversing with members of your group,” he continued, “I know for certain that none of you would be capable of such a horrific act. The way Captain Aizen was murdered points toward him being assassinated by a fellow captain.”

One of their own? She shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around everything. “That’s why we were locked up, though. Because they couldn’t be certain that one of us did it,” she mumbled, half to herself. She turned to stare up at the ceiling.

“To ensure that blame isn’t wrongfully placed on an innocent person. Killing a captain is a serious offense.”

Those words jabbed her in the heart. Because she remembered Uryū declaring his intent to kill Kurotsuchi. If he actually managed to, then he’d...

She swallowed down the fear. It wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t have the strength to commit the act. And there were plenty of other things to be worried about.

“Like they really care about fair trials.” She rolled her eyes before closing them. “Rukia sure got one, didn’t she? Sentenced to death because she had no choice but to give up her powers in order to save innocent people’s lives.”

“Yes, that was their decision based on the nature of the crime. You see, nearly 30 years ago, a Soul Reaper gave their power to a human. That human became consumed with it and took the lives of other Soul Reapers in order to gain more. And so Central 46 deemed it a criminal offense.”

His voice was filled with remorse. Tamiko blinked at him, watching as he bowed his head. “And now Rukia’s going to be executed because one human went rogue. Isn’t that a little extreme?”

“It is.” He lifted his head and looked her directly in the eye. “Rukia Kuchiki has been sentenced to execution by the Sōkyoku, a large halberd that annihilates the entire soul. Such an execution is normally reserved for captains who have severely broken the law.”

“A-annihilates? Do you mean...?”

“That the soul is completely destroyed, and won’t return to the cycle of rebirth.”

A horrible image flashed through her mind. Rukia being cut through with the weapon, screaming as her entire body gradually faded out of existence.

“But that’s horri--”

“Captain Ukitake, would you mind explaining to me what you’re doing talking with the ryoka?” a calm, deep voice cut in.

The prison door creaked open, and he strode in. His scarf fluttered behind him, held aloft by his reiatsu. Even with her senses dulled with the cuffs, the odor of cherry blossoms slammed into her, nearly choking her.

Byakuya Kuchiki came to a stop beside her bed, looking directly at Ukitake.

“Ah, Byakuya!” He lifted a hand in greeting. His expression remained serious. “I was just about to come searching for you, concerning this morning’s announcement.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“What... did you say?”

“There’s nothing to discuss in that regard.” Kuchiki turned to face her with his chilly gaze. Tamiko tightened into a ball, wincing from the flaring pain. “However, you have yet to answer my question.”

Ukitake took on a frightening expression, a glare that could pierce through any material. “I’m doing whatever I can to get to the bottom of things. Which is what _you_ should be doing. You’re head of the Kuchiki clan! If you appeal to Central 46, I’m sure--”

“It is no longer open to appeal. I shall honor their decision.”

“How can you say such a thing?” He yelled, storming up to Kuchiki. He grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face him. “Rukia’s your _sister!_ At noon tomorrow, she’ll be executed! To turn your back on her now is...”

Trailing off, his eyes grew wide and breathing labored. He fumbled into his shihakusho, pulling out a handkerchief. It reached his mouth just in time to catch the violent coughs that streamed out. Spots of blood bloomed on the fabric.

Tamiko’s stomach turned at the sight. Just how sick was he?

“You’ll only shorten your life further, Ukitake.” Kuchiki pulled away, looking upon him with pity. “Besides, this isn’t the first time you’ve lost a subordinate due to your negligence. With how many you’ve lost within the past 30 years, one would expect you to be used to it by now.”

Those words only intensified Ukitake’s glare. He couldn’t speak, too busy gasping for a breath. Even Tamiko shuddered from Kuchiki’s bluntness. And from what he was insinuating. Rukia was a member of Squad 13. Those deaths 30 years ago were also from the same squad. Her mind whirled from the information, trying to make sense of it all.

“Once more,” Kuchiki continued, “she’s a member of my family, not years. Even if she’s killed, it shouldn’t concern you.”

Anger surged through her heart. Tamiko shakily sat up, groaning and placing a hand against her stomach. “How... dare you.”

“What was that?” His head turned towards her.

“To say such a thing. It doesn’t matter that Rukia isn’t related to him by blood. She’s a member of his squad! And at least he’s trying to save her. That’s far more than what _you_ have done.”

A cold glare darkened his eyes. “You, a ryoka, dare to lecture me.” He stepped over and leaned closer to her, whispering, “It seems you’ve forgotten your place. Allow me to remind you. You and your friends invaded the Seireitei and injured several officers. Once the execution is over, Central 46 will be discussing _your_ punishment.”

She pushed herself towards the other end of the bed, but continued to stare him in the eye. Her shoulders shook, anger transitioning back into the despair she felt earlier. A tear broke free and was caught on a bandage.

“And I expect you to cooperate with the healers from here on out. This is your only warning.” He straightened, and his eyes narrowed as they looked back at Ukitake. They were met by the same glare. Ukitake rose to his full height, fists clenched at his side. “Do not act recklessly, especially where these ryoka are concerned. Otherwise, you may be next to face the Sōkyoku.”

He turned on his heel and swept out of the room. Ukitake watched him the entire time, gradually lowering the handkerchief from his mouth.

Tamiko wrapped both arms around her stomach, fresh sobs tumbling out of her. Even if Ichigo managed to come to their rescue, there was no way he’d be strong enough to stand up to Kuchiki, let alone the rest of the captains.

A hand fell against her head, and she looked up at Ukitake’s warm expression. “I know it seems hopeless now, but you mustn’t give up,” he whispered. “Rest assured, I will do everything I can to solve this. For now, rest. Let your wounds heal. If not for yourself, then for those that care about you.”

It wasn’t like she had much choice, so she nodded. Keeping her gaze fixed on him, she laid back down. He pulled the blanket over her and placed his hand on her forehead.

For several minutes, she stared at him. He was so kind and gentle, just like her dad. But could she trust him? Two more tears leaked out, and his thumb rubbed against her temple.

“Hush now and sleep. Everything will be alright.”

Something in her heart told her to believe him. To believe he did care and would do everything in his power to help. She closed her eyes, letting herself be lulled to sleep by his comforting presence.


	19. Persevere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to keep going when you feel powerless. When you don't have the strength to fight back. Tamiko had accepted her fate as a prisoner... until Uryū appears with an unlikely ally. So somehow, she has to find the courage to keep moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

It was all too familiar. Laying in a bed while someone hovered over, changing bandages and assessing her vitals. Except now there wasn’t a TV she could turn on for background noise. No books to read. And she longed to have a video game in her hands.

There was nothing else to do but resign herself to their ‘care.’

Tamiko no longer fought against the nameless Squad Four member, but she didn’t look at him either. Instead, she chose to stare at the window, noting how the rays of light had changed from yellow to soft orange. Only a few hours must have passed since Ukitake left.

His words floated through her mind again, _“I know it seems hopeless, but you mustn’t give up. Rest. If not for yourself, then for those that care about you.”_

Her wounds must be healing. The healer pulled away some of the bandages and didn’t replace them. The only one that remained was around her stomach and upper leg. She swallowed down some medicine and water, and the pain dulled.

Before long, she was alone in her darkening cell. She rolled onto her side and stared at the floor, trying to cling to hope. Ichigo would come and save everyone somehow. He had to. But doubt gripped her heart. It was far more likely he would fall, unable to overpower the horde of enemies surrounding him.

An image of him being impaled by a Zanpakutō flashed by. Her eyes clenched shut, but it did nothing to stop the other visuals coming right after the other. Uryū tossed into a horde of Hollows. Orihime being tortured. Chad bound and drowning in a deep pool of water. And Ganju shot up into the air and blown up like a firework.

Tears poured between her eyelids, dampening the pillow. Such executions were horrific and unlikely to happen, but there had to be some kind of punishment awaiting them. She doubted they would send them home with a slap on the wrist.

And she was powerless to do anything. Not while her reiryoku was suppressed and she was confined to this tiny cell. She wanted to do something. Say something. Anything to stop what was happening. But all she could do was cry and let exhaustion overtake her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was pitch black. Not even a speck of light could be seen. Something chained her down to the bed. Her heart raced and muscles strained to break free.

_Danger._

Tamiko opened her mouth, but not a single sound came out. Even if she could say something, it wouldn’t free her.

The mad genius. He must have captured her and had her strapped to his operating table. Any minute, he would be laughing out in victory and holding a scalpel over her nose.

A light flickered on from above. She squinted against it and turned her head. Her vision focused on the silhouette of a man in a hat. Again, she tried to scream, to yell at her captor, but only a squeak managed to leak out.

“She’s woken up,” a voice came from the man. “Quickly, administer the anesthesia.”

That voice sounded familiar. But who...?

Before she could grasp the answer, he faded away. She shot up, gasping from the pain that flared. The room around her was dark and empty, and she wasn’t strapped to a table. Sweat slid off her chin and splashed on the shackles still binding her wrists.

The nightmare dissipated from her memory. It was gone, leaving behind a thumping heart and a dry mouth. Was it the same one she had been having? She couldn’t remember.

Or maybe... she didn’t want to remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The squeak of the cell door cut into her sleep. Tamiko rolled over, trying to block out the ear-piercing sound. It occurred to her that she needed to wake up in order to cooperate, but her eyelids refused to budge. Whatever. Not like she had the energy to fight them anyway.

Pressure fell on her shoulder, but it didn’t force her onto her back. It squeezed gently, and a voice spoke, garbled, “Hey... up.”

Her eyes fluttered open, saw a blurry form leaning over her, and closed once more. She groaned in response to a light tapping on her cheek.

“Come on,” the voice came again, slightly clearer. “I know you don’t want to, but you have to wake up, Tamiko.”

She sat up, managing to get her eyes open once more. Her vision refused to focus, but she could make out a young man in a shihakusho. Oh, it was the healer. Persistent as always. A yawn worked its way up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Wait a moment. The healer never said her name before, and he certainly wouldn’t use her given one. So why...?

A pair of concerned, blue eyes set behind a pair of glasses came into focus. He looked so worried, far more than she had ever seen him look. His face was pale, drawn, as if he hadn’t slept. Her hands lifted up, reaching out to touch his face.

Was he really in front of her, or had she lost her mind? The tips of her fingers landed on his chin and moved up to his cheek.

Uryū raised an eyebrow, but his eyes kept their expression. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I... I thought...” Her throat constricted, and a soft gasp broke through. Tears burst forth, trickling down her cheeks. She flung herself against him, causing him to stumble briefly. “I thought I’d never see you again! That I’d never know if you and the others were...”

“Shush! You don’t want to alert the whole division,” he said, body stiffening.

“S-sorry.”

He let out a breath, and his muscles gradually loosened. His arms went around her, one hand burying into her hair while the other pressed against her back. She poured out her sobs into the shihakusho.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered. “We’re going to find Inoue and the others. Then we’ll do whatever we can to help Kurosaki, so we can go home.”

“We can?”

Her head lifted up so their eyes met. He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. It was one of confidence, a drastic contrast to how tired he looked. She tried to let one come to her face as well, but more tears came out instead.

“Hey, I said everything would be okay.” His hand frantically patted her back. “So you can stop crying now. Please?”

She let out a single laugh and rubbed away the tears. Confusion etched itself over his face. “Sorry. I was just so scared.”

The soft expression returned. “Of course. Tamiko, I’m...” He trailed off into a forced cough. When she tilted her head to the side, he looked away. “I’m sorry for letting you be captured. I should’ve been able to...”

Again, his words trailed off. He swallowed, eyes turning serious. It was clear he was unable to put his feelings into words. She took his hand and squeezed. He looked back at her with wide eyes.

“You’re forgiven. Besides, you saved me from becoming a lab rat. I’d be in a far worse prison than this if you hadn’t.”

He bowed his head, as if consenting to her words. “I wasn't about to let that insane clown dissect you like so many others. And I swear, if he ever tries again, I...”

The words were swallowed down, and his head fell lower so that his bangs covered his eyes. His hand trembled within hers.

 _Something was wrong._ But she couldn’t put her finger on what exactly. Maybe it was because he failed to kill the mad scientist. Or it was their subsequent capture. A little of both? Whichever the case, it distressed him. She’d hug him, if she could get her arms apart. Rather, she placed her other hand over his, forcing it to still.

“Fact is, you saved me. Again.” Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. A forced smile found its way to her face. “And you managed to break out of your cell. How’d you do it, anyway? Some super cool Quincy lock-picking technique?”

With his free hand he pushed up his glasses. Once more, he looked away from her. “Er. No. Nothing like that,” he stammered.

Before he could finish his statement, a voice came from the doorway, “Me. I let him out.”

The voice was laced with attitude, dredging up memories of regret. Tamiko and Uryū looked up as Abarai stepped into the cell, carrying a folded shihakusho and bandages.

“Here. Take them,” he stated, thrusting them at Uryū and then glancing at Tamiko. “Dug through at least 20 boxes to find a uniform with those measurements. Geez, Kimura. You’re almost as small as Rukia.”

She looked between the two, trying to piece together how they started working together. Last she remembered, Abarai had been wounded from his battle with Ichigo. He bore no signs of pain, so he must have recovered. But that didn’t explain why he was breaking them out of jail.

Uryū let out a breath, clearing noticing her confusion. “It’s not like I wanted _his_ help. He just strolled in, unlocked the door, and told me to get out.”

Abarai folded his arms. “Funny,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I remember things playing out far differently.”

“That’s _exactly_ what happened.”

“Yeah, sure. I strolled in and unlocked the door. But then he demanded me to snag some clothing and bandages for the two of you.” He pointed at him, as if accusing him of a crime.

“I didn’t ‘demand' anything.”

“What else would you call it?”

Uryū adjusted his glasses. “A suggestion. If we’re going to be out in the open, we need disguises. I don’t expect the white yukata to be the popular fashion trend among squad members.”

“Alright, I get it. You don’t need to keep yammerin’ on.” Abarai glared at him, eyebrow twitching.

Tamiko turned her head back and forth as if watching a tennis match. The two of them were simply bickering. Their tones stayed level, and no death threats were hurled. They were getting along.

“Just what is going on here?” she blurted out. Both snapped towards her with clueless looks on their faces. She pointed at Abarai. “It was only a month ago that you were prepared to slice us up.”

He blinked and looked up at the ceiling. Understanding washed over his face. “Oh! That.”

“Yes. _That_.”

A cocky grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I wasn’t gonna slice ya up. Our orders were to kill Kurosaki and bring Rukia back.”

“So then why are you helping us now? It’s not likely you’ve been ordered to do so.”

“Still so curious,” he grumbled, the grin fading into a deadpan expression. “Because Kurosaki asked me to.”

Uryū’s eyes bulged at that. “Wait. You mean you’ve seen him? He better not have been goofing off while we rotted in jail.”

“It’s only been a day.” He turned his deadpan face onto him.

Tamiko shook her head and pointed out, “There’s no way Ichigo would do something like that.”

“I wouldn’t call Bankai training ‘goofing off,’” Abarai stated, rolling his shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck. “How that kid expects to obtain it in only two days is beyond me.”

“Bankai? I think I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s what that madman used. It transformed his Zanpakutō into a giant caterpillar and emitted a poisonous mist,” Uryū explained, fists tightening.

Abarai patted the hilt of his sword. “Everyone’s Bankai is different, depending on the weapon’s identity and the wielder’s strength.” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “I can’t begin to imagine what that absurdly massive sword of Kurosaki’s is going to look like.”

‘So that’s where Ichigo’s been,’ Tamiko thought, beginning to feel slightly more hopeful. ‘If he’s gaining a technique as strong as a captain’s, then he should be able to...’

She smiled and finished the thought aloud, “Then he should be able to stand up to Kuchiki and the other captains, right?”

“You shouldn’t get your hope's up,” Abarai said, rubbing the back of his head. “All of the captains are required to know Bankai. Well, except for Zaraki from Eleven. Besides, they’ve had more time to train with them than Kurosaki has.”

The hope diminished. He had a point. Even with a new ability, Ichigo still lacked the experience. And they were out of time for him to gain any.

“Hey, you guys don’t have a thing to worry about,” Abarai declared, a cocky grin spreading across his face again.

“And just why is that?” Uryū asked.

“It so happens that I’ve recently obtained Bankai. If Captain Kuchiki or anyone else tries to cause us trouble, I’ll be able to handle them.”

He was given a skeptical look. “You said that your reason for helping us was because Kurosaki asked you to. You were prepared to kill us all until a few days ago.”

“Let’s just say,” Abarai said as he turned away, “I gained a little respect for the kid after I lost to him. Made me realize a few things. Especially about what’s going on with Rukia. I want to do what I can to save her.”

The room was bathed in silence at his declaration. Tamiko sat up straighter, wondering just what his relationship with Rukia was. They used each other’s given names, so they had to be close. She got the sense there was something far deeper than what she could see on the surface.

Uryū appeared to be struggling with his own thoughts, staring at him for a solid minute. He turned back towards her and picked up the roll of bandages. “I want to make sure your wounds are tended to before we go.”

“Oh. Right.” Her cheeks flared at his fingers brushing against her temple, where one of the wounds used to be.

“It seems as if everything has healed,” he commented, moving to her face and arms. “Those burns are gone.”

“Yeah. They removed the bandages. Last night.”

“What about...?” He trailed off, eyes dropping to her abdomen.

She shook her head, placing a hand on her side. “Still there. I guess it was pretty deep.”

“Would you like me to take a look?” he asked and cleared his throat. “That is to say, are you still having pain with it?”

Her eyes fell to her lap and fingers curled over the wound. “If you think you should,” she whispered and lay back down. “And yeah. It still hurts.”

He pushed up his glasses, quickly whirling away as she undid the yukata. His eyes went to Abarai, who was looking over his shoulder at them, eyebrow raised. Uryū snapped, “Hey, keep your eyes to yourself.”

“Like I intended to look.” His head turned back towards the window. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a cut on her stomach.”

“The big deal is that she’s a young lady with two male individuals in the room. How old are you, anyway?”

“Last I checked, I was about 150. I think.”

“That makes it even worse!”

“Calm down already. I said that I wasn’t going to watch.” One could just hear his eyes rolling in the tone of his voice.

Tamiko’s face felt even hotter as she made sure everything but the wound was covered. “Okay. You can look now.”

She couldn’t watch as Uryū leaned back over her. Ever so carefully, he pulled away the bandages covering her stomach and upper leg. His touch was so light that she almost wondered if he was even touching her at all. As gentle as any physician.

And yet, her heart thudded and stomach squeezed into her throat. Why did this feel so mortifying? It wasn’t like she hasn’t had complete strangers changing her bandages numerous times this past year. Maybe it was because Uryū was her friend instead of a medical professional.

He let out a breath and said, “It looks a lot better. I don’t think it’ll start bleeding again while we’re traveling.”

“What about you?” she asked, but he didn’t stop in layering fresh bandages over the wound. “You were just as injured. I can help change your bandages, if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary. I took care of them before I changed clothes.”

“What about the one on your--”

“I’m fine, Tamiko. There isn’t time to worry about it.” He finished with his task and straightened. “Is it too tight?”

“No, not at all.” She carefully sat up, resting a hand over them. A small smile flickered on her face. “You’re pretty good at this. I guess it runs in the family.”

He pushed up his glasses. “I’m nothing like Ryūken. I have no intentions of ever being a doctor.”

The words were spoken in a cold, sharp tone. Not unlike the one he used when talking about Soul Reapers. She wanted to question him, but it wasn’t the time to do so. Especially judging by how intense his eyes looked.

Besides, there were more pressing matters to worry about. She hastily tied the yukata back around her. The shackles clinked together, and she held them up. “Uh... a little help please?”

Abarai strode over, pulling a key out from one of his sleeves. “Better hurry up and get dressed,” he mumbled, undoing the lock. “Someone from Squad Four could be here any minute.”

She nodded and rubbed her sweaty wrists; she frowned at them, having expected her reiryoku to bounce right back. But it stayed stuck, trapped within her like Ichigo’s was during training with the reishukaku. Her gaze went to Uryū, noting his energy seemed smaller than usual.

“Are you alright, Tamiko?” he asked, hand lifting towards her.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. And nearly doubled over from the effort. His hand found its way to her shoulder, and she gently shrugged it off. “Just a twinge. Now, are you two going to give me some privacy, or...?”

His hand jerked up to adjust his glasses. He quickly turned away. “O-of course. We’ll be right outside. Let’s go, Abarai.”

“You don’t have to order me around,” he grumbled, following after him.

Tamiko watched them walk out the door. Once they were out of sight, she sighed. At least now she would be free to do something, but what could she do without a weapon?

Yet again, she was relying on the strength of the others to protect her. She fumbled with the yukata sash, hoping she would be able to find some way to help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The corridors were empty, dimly lit by the yellow-orange of sunrise. A few Soul Reapers’ reiryoku flitted through the barracks, either on their way to breakfast or morning duties, but they never encountered a single one. Abarai must have known how to avoid the traffic as he took them through a winding path.

Their plan was simple enough: get to a side door, one only used for drills. If they were quick, they should be outside before the first exercise.

Rescuing the others, however, would be far more complicated. Two were locked away, Chad in Squad Eight’s prison and Ganju in Thirteen’s. Both had sustained injuries that, while not life-threatening, could make getting to the execution site tedious.

Unless they were unable to find Orihime. According to Uryū, she was with two Soul Reapers who assigned themselves as her bodyguards. Thanks to his descriptions, Abarai was able to surmise they were Ikkaku Madarame and Yumichika Ayasegawa from Squad Eleven.

“Are you sure Inoue will be safe with them?” Uryū whispered upon learning their names.

“Oh, yeah. Ikkaku’s an old training pal of mine. She should be in good hands.”

_“Should?”_

“Ayasegawa can be a bit of a flirt around people he thinks are beautiful.”

Uryū shook his head and grumbled, “I thought there was something in the way he was leering at her.” He raised an eyebrow. “’Madarame.’ Where have I heard that name before?”

“Maybe when he introduced himself?” Abarai sarcastically suggested and paused to look around a corner.

Tamiko stepped up behind him, standing on her toes in order to look over his shoulder. She pushed her hair behind her ears, trying to keep it from rubbing against her cheeks. Even though the burns had healed, her skin itched at the slightest irritation.

A reminder that her things were gone. Her backpack, clothing, and weapon. Granted, her clothes had been completely ruined in the fight, and she certainly wouldn’t want them back. But she felt naked without her staff. And she longed for something to tie back her hair.

Abarai glanced back at her, watching as she scratched at her cheek. He buried his hand into his pocket and pulled out a black hair tie. “Here.”

She opened her hands just in time to catch it. “Oh. T-thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I always keep a stash of them just in case. Wouldn’t want my hair to get in the way of a battle.”

“Probably why Madarame shaves his head,” she remarked, gathering the strands into their usual style.

“Nah, the guy’s naturally bald, no matter how much he tries to deny it.” His mouth curled into a good-natured smirk, which she returned with a wan smile. He waved them forward, towards a door.

They followed him, and she watched his back closely. It was funny how just a few days ago, he was one of their enemies, and now they had no choice but to put all of their trust in him. In his strength.

He was going against orders to help them escape. What awaited him if they managed to succeed in rescuing Rukia? Nothing good.

Likely, he would have to travel to the World of the Living with them. To aid a group of invaders to rescue a criminal facing execution, no doubt he would be the next to face the Sōkyoku.

‘So we would be hiding two Soul Reapers,’ Tamiko thought, fiddling with her ponytail to make sure it was tight enough. ‘I wonder if that’s what happened to the ones who went missing. They chose to break the law for someone they cared about.’

Just as Abarai stepped through the door, the scent of cherry blossoms slammed into her nose. She froze, forcing Uryū to stop just before he could run into her. “Why did you stop? Is something the matter?”

“Get back,” she whispered, putting her hand against his chest. She pushed him back down the hallway. He stepped back without argument, but with confusion in his eyes. Could he not sense the immense reiatsu beginning to shake the building?

A rush of air filled the hallway, pushing Tamiko against him. His eyes widened, and a protective arm shielded her head. She craned her neck to look past it, to see Abarai as his hand hovered over the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

“Renji. What do you think you’re doing?” Kuchiki’s voice was as sharp as it had been the day before.

“I’m going to save Rukia,” Abarai replied in a clear, confident voice. “And there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me.”

“Don’t be so cocky.”

“Roar, Zabimaru!”

Tamiko tore herself out of Uryū’s hold, grabbed his hand, and bolted. He sputtered from surprise, but went along with her. Behind them, something crashed through the wall. Dust and debris billowed up, but neither dared to look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tamiko,” Uryū gasped, his steps slowing, “you need to stop. You’re going to reopen that wound at this rate. Don’t you think we’ve gone far enough?”

She stumbled to a stop, panting for a breath. Her free hand pressed against her stomach, pain radiating at her touch. Wincing, she took in their surroundings.

They were outside, back within the labyrinthine streets. The Squad Six barracks were nowhere in sight, but the clashing pressures felt as close as ever with the aroma of cherry blossoms all around. It did nothing to slow her racing heart.

None of the nearby buildings looked familiar. The only thing she recognized was the giant cliff rising over the city--the location of the impending execution.

Soon, people would gather up there. Every single captain and lieutenant were bound to attend the event. If they managed to reunite with everyone and reach the top, they wouldn’t stand a chance. They’d be outnumbered even with help from Squads Eleven and Thirteen.

She turned to Uryū. Sweat plastered the bangs to his forehead. His chest rose and fell with his attempt to catch a breath. He had to be in just as much pain as she was, and she made him run for who knew how long.

“I’m... sorry.” She barely got the words out before she started to fall.

His arms shot out and caught her. “Tamiko, are you okay?” She nodded in reply, but leaned heavily against him, gritting her teeth against a cry of pain. “Here. We’ll take a rest before we head to the Eleventh.”

Right. The plan. They were to head to Squad Eleven’s barracks where Orihime should be. It was on their way to the Thirteenth, and it made sense to enlist Madarame and Ayasegawa. With their help, it wouldn’t be difficult to spring Ganju and Chad.

One problem. They lost their bodyguard, who knew which way to go. Abarai had been a member of the Eleventh Division once. Without him, they’d be just as lost as before.

And they were sitting ducks. If someone were to come along, they’d easily be captured again. Unless Uryū could...

Tamiko stared at his naked, right hand. The glove was gone, probably taken along with the rest of their clothes. And if he had had his cross as well, it was also taken.

Although, now that she thought of it, something did seem off about him. His reiryoku was still trapped within the center of his being. She sniffed a couple of times, trying to smell his rain scented reiatsu. But all she smelled was the lingering trails of that horrifying cherry aroma.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning away from her.

She snapped to attention, noticing that her nose was inches from his face. Her cheeks flared up with embarrassment. “Oh. Sorry. I was just... noticing that your glove was gone. And your cross--”

“I didn’t bring it with me. It wasn’t necessary, and I didn’t want to lose it.”

That was a relief, knowing something so precious to him was safe back home. Where his father could find it, when he realized his son was never coming back. Her arms folded over her middle, and she clutched them tightly.

After a minute of silence, Uryū whispered, “We’re going to be fine, Tamiko. Please, try to rest. Once you’re feeling better, we’ll head to the Eleventh. After that we’ll...” He trailed off at her trembling shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“’What’s wrong?’” she echoed, voice barely above a whisper. She faced him, tears burning her eyes. “How can you be so confident about accomplishing this mission? You called it idealistic before, and you were right.”

Her voice broke, and a couple of tears dribbled on her arms. She hugged herself tighter.

“Face it, Uryū. We lost. We’re never going home.”

A sob leaked out of her mouth. She covered it to muffle the noise. Out of the corner of her eye, he shakily reached towards her.

“Please... don’t cry again,” he stammered, but his words didn’t have any effect. His fingers brushed against her shoulder. “We’ll get home, Tamiko. Kurosaki will--”

“That’s impossible! Ichigo would have to defeat every single captain in order to rescue us and Rukia.”

His hand fell off her shoulder. “You know he’s going to try, though. Leave it to Kurosaki to face enemies bigger than himself.”

She lifted her eyes to look at him. He was staring off into the distance, gaze intense. There really was something wrong, if he was putting faith in people he once swore as his enemies. It had to be because of his inability to fight.

“Kurosaki’s too stubborn to know when to give up. He’ll take on every single Soul Reaper in the Seireitei no matter how strong,” he continued, hands tightening into fists. “We shouldn’t give up on him. He needs our support, even if that’s all we can provide.”

The truth to his words caused her head to lower. It was true. Ichigo hadn’t given up yet. He was training to get stronger. But for it to be enough...

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I just want to go home. For us all to go home.”

Uryū reached towards her yet again. He paused just before his hand could touch her arm. It hovered, and he averted his gaze when she looked at him. “We’ll get there. But for now, rest. You’ll feel better, if you do.”

His whole body stiffened the moment her head hit his shoulder. She closed her eyes, giving in to the exhaustion that consumed her.

It was quiet. No sounds of Abarai’s battle could reach them. Only the clashing pressures served as a reminder to the chaos they were still in the heart of.

There was only one soul nearby, a spark of reiryoku rushing towards them. Down the street, a black speck grew even bigger. A young boy in a shihakusho and a pack was heading straight for them.

Tamiko jerked up, and Uryū narrowed his eyes. ‘I knew it,’ she thought, her hand going over his. ‘We’re going to be captured.’

Except, the boy didn’t seem to notice them. Just as he ran by Uryū, his head turned. He let out a gasp and tripped on thin air; he hit the ground with a yelp.

“Or not,” Tamiko mumbled to herself, exchanging a bewildered glance with Uryū.

The boy pushed himself up and whirled to face them. “Oh, ex-excuse me,” he stuttered. “I didn’t see the two of you there. Please. Forgive me.”

“Think nothing of it,” Uryū replied, turning the expression onto him.

She nodded along. “Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Really? Oh, thank you!” His eyes widened as he bowed to them. When he rose, his brows furrowed together. “Wait. You don’t have swords with you either?”

Either? Tamiko looked at his waist, noticing the missing weapon. That was odd, given the wartime order. She took in his meek expression and small frame. There wasn’t anything about him that even hinted at him being the fighting type.

But again, appearances could be deceiving.

“What squad are you from?” she asked.

“H-huh?” He turned his head to look at his back. “You mean you can’t tell? By the... backpack?”

“Squad Four,” Uryū promptly answered.

“R-right.” The boy looked back at them and bowed again. “I’m Hanatarō Yamada, Squad Four’s... Seventh Seat.”

A seated officer. The same rank as Nagakura? Squad Four specialized in healing, so it made sense their seated officers would be vastly different from the ones in Eleven.

“It’s a pleasure,” Tamiko said and attempted to return the gesture. She hissed and pressed a hand against her side. “My name’s Tamiko... Kimura. And this is Uryū Ishida.”

Uryū eyed her with concern. His hand gently squeezed her shoulder, supporting her into a straighter position against the wall. He whispered, “Take it easy.”

Yamada straightened, stepping closer to them. “A-are you injured?” He lifted the pack over his head and crouched in front of them. “I could help. If you don’t mind?”

“Heal him,” Tamiko said, nodding to Uryū.

At the same time, he blurted out, “Please, heal her.”

They turned to each other, and her face mirrored his serious one. “You’re far more wounded than I am. You actually fought a captain, while I laid on the ground.”

“Except you nearly bled to death,” he argued. “They’re not that serious, far more shallow than yours.”

“Don’t forget that you nearly bled to death too. I distinctly remember you bleeding while carrying me.”

“Uh, I can...” Yamada attempted to get a word in, but Uryū didn’t seem to hear him.

“That wound is obviously bothering you, Tamiko. I can endure the pain a while longer. It’s far more important that you’re tended to first.”

The look in his eyes brought the lump back to her throat. He looked like he was going to cry, but wasn’t going to. Like when he had admitted to being the last Quincy.

She looked down at his trembling hands. “What’s wrong, Uryū?” she whispered.

He pushed up his glasses. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t been acting like yourself. Well. Except for this spat, maybe.”

“It’s none of your concern,” He said, turning away from her. He acknowledged Yamada’s existence. “Do what you can to help her. She was wounded by a captain’s Zanpakutō the night before last. On her stomach and left thigh.”

“Of c-course. I’ll see what I can do.” Yamada fiddled with his pack. “But I can help you as well. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

Uryū pushed himself up to his feet. “I’ll keep watch in case anyone else happens to come by.”

“Wait, Uryū.” Her argument fell on deaf ears. He strode off, disappearing around the corner.

It was just like before, when he refused her offer of friendship. There was something he didn’t want to admit. Something that weighed heavily on his mind. She wondered if it had anything to do with his trapped reiryoku.

“I’m sorry if I said something to insult him.” Yamada’s voice drew her back to him. He was staring at her with worry filled eyes. “I only wanted to help.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I think there’s something else bothering him. Can you sense the reiryoku inside a person’s body?”

“Y-yes. That’s part of our job. We tend to the wounds of the spirit as well as the body.”

“Can you tell if there’s something seriously wrong with him?”

He turned his head towards where Uryū had gone, narrowing his eyes. “His reiryoku seems weak.” His gaze returned to her. “Yours does too. That can happen, when it’s been suppressed for long periods of time.”

“Then you know?”

Yamada nodded and settled himself on his heels. “I recognized your names. Kurosaki spoke about all of you. He was really worried.”

So that was how Ichigo managed to recover from his fight with Abarai. He must have met up with Yamada some point before or just after. There was small comfort in knowing they had another ally.

His healing kidō rid her of the pain, and it even helped get her reiryoku flowing again. She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Yamada.”

“You’re welcome.” He stood and returned his pack to its proper place. “I’m honored to help. If there’s anything else you need, feel free to ask.”

“Would you happen to know the way to Eleven’s barracks?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They traveled down the streets at a brisk pace, with Yamada in the lead. He may not be a bodyguard, but he knew the Seireitei like the back of his hand. As they traveled, not a single dead end popped up to block their path.

It was a stroke of luck that he stumbled upon them. Tamiko felt better than ever, able to keep up with his surprisingly quick legs. Her wound ached, but an improvement over how it had throbbed earlier.

She kept glancing at Uryū. Still, he refused treatment, claiming there was no time for it. He lagged behind them, but showed no signs of pain. His expression was stuck on serious, gaze focused directly ahead. If his reiryoku wasn’t weakened, she knew he would be emitting his freezing reiatsu. A warning not to press him further.

‘It has to be because he isn’t able to fight,’ she concluded, gripping her arm. They were still in enemy territory. Every second that went by was another one where they could be ambushed. She took a deep breath to settle her swirling nerves. ‘We just have to reach Eleven’s barracks. Then we’ll have people on our side that can fight.’

“We’re in the Tenth Division now,” Yamada informed over his shoulder. “I passed its captain and lieutenant on my way out. So we shouldn’t have to worry about them.”

Tamiko scanned their surroundings. Every building looked exactly the same as the ones in the other divisions, all bearing the same orange tiled roofing. One thing that stood out, though, was a giant tree towering over everything. A red pine like the one back home, only far larger. Its top couldn’t be seen, hidden by the clouds.

They walked into a courtyard not unlike the one she and Chad had landed in. The red pine could be taken in all of its glory. A massive trunk, as wide as a bus with roots snaking out around it. It had to be thousands of years old to be so gigantic.

She stared up at it, and as they walked by, she couldn’t resist brushing her fingers against the bark. “What an amazing tree.”

Yamada paused to look back at her. “Yes it is,” he said, craning his neck. “They say it was planted by the Tenth’s very first captain, before the Thirteen Court Guard Squads were founded. He was known for being fond of them.”

“He’d get along well with my mother. I think she likes plants more than people.”

“They are easier to get along with.” He resumed walking.

Tamiko gave the tree a pat before following. Out of the corner of her eye, Uryū bowed his head to it. A gesture of respect towards something so old and magnificent. She smiled at him. When he caught her expression, he pushed up his glasses and looked away.

Her smile faded, but not because of his clear embarrassment. She looked past him, back in the direction of the Sixth Division. Abarai’s pressure was faltering, a sign that he was losing the fight.

“What’s wrong?” Yamada asked, joining her side.

“It’s... Abarai,” she answered, letting out a breath.

“Y-you mean Six’s lieutenant?”

Uryū looked back at Tamiko, brows knitting together. “What happened? Do you sense something?”

She nodded in response to both questions. “He was the one who helped us escape. Kuchiki ambushed him, but we got away.” Her throat contracted, and she turned to Yamada. “Could you please go help him? He has to be badly injured. If someone doesn’t see to him soon, he’ll...”

Abarai had once been their enemy. But only because of how much he cared for Rukia. How difficult had it been for him to capture her? And now he was sacrificing himself for her.

He didn’t deserve to die.

“Will you two be able to get to the Eleventh from here?” Even though she nodded again, Yamada still hesitated. He looked to Uryū who turned away. “Just keep going towards the n-northeast. A lot of Eleven’s buildings are under repair, because of their constant fighting. You can’t miss it.”

“We’ll find it,” Tamiko assured with a small smile. “Thank you for the help.”

Yamada bowed, opening his mouth to answer. But he quickly closed it when Uryū asked, “Why did you help us? You’re going to get in trouble for doing so.”

“Oh. You see. I was assigned to bring Rukia her food and clean her cell. She was so kind, telling me everything about the World of the Living. So I want to help her.”

That seemed to pique Uryū’s curiosity as he gave him his full attention. “She did?”

“What did she talk about?” Tamiko asked, wondering as well. Rukia had been hesitant to talk about her life in the Soul Society. Apparently she didn’t feel the same about her time among the living.

“She told me about juice and how there was a special technique to it.” His answer caused Uryū to raise his brow. Yamada ignored it, continuing on, “About something called television that you could play games with. And that you could put a Kaizou Konpaku into a stuffed toy!”

Tamiko smiled at the memories as Yamada finished his bow and rushed off. She remembered Rukia’s bewildered expression over Kon and the video games. Her banter with Ichigo. And how she was right there, during every battle.

Rukia hadn’t forgotten them. She shared those memories with someone else. And now he was doing everything he could to help save her too. Like Abarai. Like Ichigo.

They hadn’t given up.

Meaning, Tamiko wouldn’t give up either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm no longer sticking with a schedule. Chapters will go up as they are finished, regardless of when that time is. I wanted to finish this part before the end of the year, but that's not likely to happen with 5 chapters left to go.
> 
> Stay tuned, though. Because the next chapter begins the climax. You don't want to miss it!


	20. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamiko and the others work to get everyone together again before Rukia's execution starts. Even together, would they be able to stop it from happening? Perhaps if Ichigo finishes training in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

Yamada had been right. They couldn’t miss the Eleventh Division.

A war zone greeted them around a corner. Several dents peppered the walls. Roofs were missing chunks out of them and were covered with tarps. Windows were boarded up and doors hung off their hinges.

“This was all caused by fighting?” Uryū mumbled in disbelief.

“Given how enthusiastic the Eleventh is about it, it’s not too surprising.” Tamiko hopped over an upturned flagstone and flinched from a twinge in her leg.

Abarai and Nagakura. Two people she knew to get a thrill out of fighting, and according to Abarai, Madarame could be added to that list. She wondered what kind of person their captain was.

They passed by a hole in the wall not unlike the ones Chad had made, but far larger. Large enough for someone over 200 centimeters. More were discovered the further they went. She swallowed, fearing they would soon meet the Eleventh Squad Captain.

A strange feeling tickled at the back of her neck. She scratched at it and looked around, but she couldn’t see a soul. And now that she thought about it, she couldn’t sense any either.

Uryū voiced her thoughts, “It’s like a ghost town. Where is everyone?”

“They might be hospitalized. I think everyone Chad and I fought were from Eleven.”

“We shouldn’t run into any enemies, in that case.”

More good luck. But practically at the last minute. She took in the sun’s position, noting it was around mid morning. The execution would start in two or three hours. Or even any minute, for all she knew. If only they could find--

A sharp ringing cut into her thoughts. Tamiko whirled around, but the street was still empty. She swept her gaze over the nearby buildings, but they didn’t hold an apparent source. “Did you hear that just now?”

“Hear what?”

“Bells.”

His brows creased in deep thought, and he glanced around. “I didn’t hear anything.” It came again, slightly louder. “Wait. There, but where’s it coming from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Must be just the wind.”

Their trek resumed, and she strained her ears, hoping to catch the sound again. Only their footsteps broke the dead silence around them. But a familiar, delicate reiryoku tugged at her. It wasn’t far off. And moving quickly away. She broke out into a run.

“Tamiko!” Uryū called before his feet smacked against the flagstones behind her.

She weaved through the streets, desperate to catch up to the energy. The jingling sound came again. Ignoring it, she exclaimed, “Orihime!”

A voice answered, but she couldn’t make out the words. Once more, the bells rang, but were soon drowned out by a loud crash. Tamiko skidded to a halt as cracks formed in the wall beside her.

Arms enveloped her, pulling her away just in time. The wall exploded, flinging stone and dust. Uryū let out a short gasp.

The twinkling resounded, along with a pair of heavy feet crushing the rubble. The smoke obscured a giant stepping through the hole. Parts of him came into view as it dissipated. A white haori with the sleeves ripped off. Bandages covering a muscular torso. Spiked up hairstyle with tiny bells attached to the tips. And an eyepatch strapped to a grinning, scarred face.

When he took a step closer to them, Uryū’s eyes narrowed into a glare. He turned, moving Tamiko further away from the giant. His arms shifted to conceal her, to protect her in spite of his weakened state.

A pink head popped up over the captain’s shoulder with a giggle. The little girl couldn’t be older than six, but there was a lieutenant’s badge on her left arm.

“Ooh, Kenny! Your face is scaring them,” she exclaimed, slapping his back. “I told you that you needed some face paint. You’d look so much better with a little kitty nose and whiskers!”

The man known as Kenny glanced at her. “But I like my style. It’s nice and intimidating.” His voice was as rough as gravel.

Tamiko knitted her brows, wondering how she hadn’t been able to sense his presence until now. Her hair stood on end and skin tingled as if shocked by static. No doubt he was a force to be reckoned with. One they were in no shape to face.

“It’s not your appearance that has us on edge,” Uryū spoke up.

She nodded along and shouted, “Yeah, you nearly crushed us!”

“Did I?” He looked around as if noticing the debris for the first time; he straightened his shoulders and guffawed. “That’ll teach you to stay on your toes!”

“Right... toes.” Tamiko wriggled out of Uryū’s hold.

He whispered, “Careful. I don’t trust him.”

A small part of her agreed. Not only could he snap them in two with his bare hands, he was also a captain. But they had no other choice. She took in the large hole behind him. “I take it you’re the captain and lieutenant of Squad Eleven?”

“That’s right!” the little girl cheered. “My name’s Yachiru Kusajishi. And this here’s Kenny!”

The man grinned at Tamiko. “Just a nickname.” He put his hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō and lifted it up to the sky. “I am the Eighth Kenpachi! Captain of the Eleventh Division, Kenpachi Zaraki!”

‘He’s named after his father?’ she wondered, noting how his eyes were alight with pride.

Kusajishi beamed at Zaraki before looking back down at them. “You guys must be friends of Ichi’s. We heard you calling for Melons.”

Uryū stepped between them, raising an eyebrow. “’Ichi?’ ‘Melons?’ She has to be talking about Kurosaki, but why would we be calling for some--?” Tamiko’s snickering cut him off. “What? What’s so funny?”

“I think it’s a nickname.”

“But for who...?” His forehead wrinkled from deep thought. Gradually, his eyes widened, and he hid his face within the palm of his hand.

Her giggling fit halted when she remembered, “That’s right! I sensed Orihime’s reiryoku a moment ago. So where is she?” She leaned to the side to peer around Zaraki.

He tilted his head, but then laughed in understanding. “Ah, you mean Kurosaki’s woman,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder and frowning. “Hey, Yachiru, wasn’t she right behind us with those two knuckleheads?”

“Looks like they got lost!” Kusajishi chimed with a big smile.

“Why don’t you go look for ‘em?”

Teetering with laughter, she rocketed off his back and disappeared over the wall. “You can count on me. Baldy! Yun Yun! Melons! Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“Does she give everyone nicknames?” Tamiko asked Zaraki.

He sheathed his blade with a chuckle. “That’s just her way. She loves givin’ people names.”

An awkward silence hung over the group. Uryū had regained his composure, back to eyeing Zaraki warily. She set her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, telling him not to say something to anger him. They had just gained Zaraki as an ally, and a powerful one at that.

‘But would he be able to stand against the other captains?’ she wondered, gaze dropping to a slab of wall at her feet. ‘Maybe if Ichigo manages to obtain Bankai, they might stand a chance.’

“Tamiko! Ishida!” a voice cried from behind them.

Orihime was sprinting down the street, long hair flying. Her eyes glistened with tears. Relief flooded over Tamiko, taking in her friend’s healthy appearance. She was whole and safe.

_And reunited with them._

Tamiko ran to meet her half way. They latched on to each other, a hug tight enough to squeeze the juice out of an orange. Orihime trembled with laughter and said, “I’m so glad to see you. When I heard you screaming, I was...” Her voice broke and the laughter transitioned into sobbing.

“I’m alright. Uryū saved me. From a...” Tamiko trailed off into a shuddering breath. “Y-you should’ve seen him. He looked like an--”

Uryū cleared his throat, and they broke apart to watch him walk up. “Are you alright, Inoue? Are you hurt?”

“Oh, no! I’m fine.” Orihime swept her fingers across her eyes. “Madarame and Ayasegawa just took me to their barracks. That’s where I’ve been for the last couple of nights, so I haven’t been in any danger.”

His shoulders straightened and expression softened. He must have been so worried about her, having to leave her in the hands of Soul Reapers. It was a victory, seeing her well. A small one, but it was enough.

“Now we just need to bust the others out of jail,” Tamiko said, turning to look back at Zaraki.

He cast his grin on her. “Heh. No problem. I’ll fight anyone that dares cross our path!”

It was several minutes before Kusajishi came marching back with two Soul Reapers in tow. One was completely bald, so it was clear who they were. The two self-imposed bodyguards who fought--and lost--against Ichigo and Ganju.

A similar grin to his captain’s was stuck to Madarame’s face. He held his sheathed Zanpakutō, tapping it against his shoulder. “Finally! It’s about damn time we see some action. I’m gonna lose my touch if I don’t get a good fight soon.”

“Don’t worry,” Ayasegawa assured, gaze sweeping over the group. It landed on Tamiko and brightened. “As long as we stay close to Kurosaki’s friends, we’re bound to be drawn into some battles.”

Uryū narrowed his eyes at him. “That’s why you’re helping us?” he asked. “Just to fight?”

The question went unanswered. Ayasegawa sauntered by him and stopped before Tamiko. “My, does Kurosaki make attractive company. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Yumichika Ayasegawa. Would you do me the pleasure of telling me your name?”

She took a step back, hands jerking up. “Oh. It’s Tamiko Kimura.”

“Ah, a fitting name.” He bowed and clasped one of her hands. It was brought up to his lips, and he gave it a light kiss. “For someone with eyes as lovely as yours.”

Her entire face flared up. But before she could get another word out, Uryū wedged himself between them, breaking Ayasegawa’s hold. He barked at him, “Hey, you didn’t answer my question!”

“How rude,” Ayasegawa scoffed, biting a nail on his thumb and sneering at him. “Haven’t I already explained that it was because our captain enjoyed fighting Kurosaki?”

“That kid’s only going to get stronger. We wanna be there when he does.” Madarame’s grip tightened on his weapon’s hilt.

Zaraki roared with laughter. “But as captain, I get the first dibs on ‘im!”

Orihime squeaked at that, and she exchanged a wary glance with Tamiko. At least they were being honest about where they stood. Hopefully, they’d be able to escape the Soul Society before he made good on his word.

“The way I see it, the reason shouldn’t matter.” Ayasegawa seemed to regain his composure, holding his arms against himself and smiling. “Point is, we want to help. You’re not going to be able to free your friends without us.”

Tamiko took in a breath and nodded. They needed fighters on their side, and that was what they got. Only three, though. Kusajishi wielded a tiny Zanpakutō that looked more like a toy than a weapon. It was unlikely she could fight.

Still, it was a vast improvement to their circumstances. They actually stood a fighting chance. Tamiko let a small smile appear.

“So let’s get this party moving. To rescue Chad and Ganju!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweat dampened his clothes, or so he convinced himself. He struggled to keep pace with Zaraki, who darted in and out of the streets at Kusajishi’s direction. Even Inoue had a hard time, but she stayed well ahead of Uryū.

Pain pulsated from every inch of his body. Regret from turning down Inoue’s offer to heal him gnawed at his brain. But he refused to monopolize her powers in case the others were in worse shape. That and their time was limited. The execution was in a couple of hours, barely enough time to get across the Seireitei and break the others from their cells.

So Tamiko had suggested they break into two groups in order to cover more ground. Kusajishi jumped in on the plan and took it upon herself to decide the groups.

“Since Kenny would be lost with me, we’ll stick together! And as for who should come with us...” She trailed off, putting a finger against her chin. Her body leaned forward as if to study the group intensely. The finger moved and pointed at Orihime and Uryū. “Melons and Pencil!”

“M-my nickname is ‘Pencil?’” he mumbled under his breath.

And he looked at Tamiko, at her downcast eyes. Kusajishi had just split them up again. That couldn’t have been her intention. It was the last thing he wanted to do as well, leaving her in the hands of Madarame and Ayasegawa.

When she noticed him staring, she held herself straighter and smiled. “It’ll be fine,” she assured. “Like I said, we’ll get them out faster this way. Let’s meet up at the large tree in the Tenth Division.”

Her voice was confident and cheery, a drastic change to how she had been earlier. She was regaining her focus, the same kind she had in pressured situations. It was enough to ease him in the moment, but now the thoughts resumed swirling in his mind.

He didn’t trust the Squad Eleven members. He couldn’t understand them. They were only helping to fight. That meant they could care less about Tamiko’s safety, and knowing how reckless she was...

It wouldn’t matter. Even if he was with them, there wouldn’t be anything he could do. With his powers gone, he was _useless_.

“Tamiko will be alright.” Inoue’s breathless voice sliced through his thoughts. His vision focused on her. She was casting a soft glance over her shoulder as they ran.

He drew in a deep breath to steady himself. After making sure Zaraki and Kusajishi were well ahead of them, he asked, “Were you treated well at the Eleventh? Those two Soul Reapers didn’t do anything to... hurt you?”

“They took good care of me,” she answered with a small smile. “I was given my own room, and I was able to take a bath. There was even a hot meal waiting for me, so I was comfortable.”

That was a relief, knowing that she had been treated as a guest rather than a prisoner. And she avoided that demon and the torture he had put Tamiko through.

Inoue faced forward with a melancholy expression and continued, “But I’ll admit, I was scared. Especially that first night. I didn’t think I’d see you, Tamiko, or the others ever again.”

The same words and fear repeated. They sent his shoulders to tremble. He willed them to still, realizing his terror from the other night hadn’t left. And it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Along with it was anger. He was angry at the Soul Reapers for their horrifying actions. But most of all, he was angry at himself. He may have saved Tamiko’s life, but it put himself in a position to rely on his enemies. ‘If only I had been stronger...’

“Hey, you two! You better hurry up back there,” Kusajishi cheerfully called out. “Otherwise, we’re gonna beat you to the Squad Eight barracks!”

Uryū snapped to attention. “It’s not supposed to be a race!” he yelled back.

She giggled in response and kicked at Zaraki like he was a horse. “Faster, Kenny! They’re gaining on us.” Her laughter rang out as he grunted and complied.

A pain shot through his leg, and Uryū gritted his teeth against it. He made it look like he was glowering at Zaraki’s back. ‘Kurosaki, you better get strong enough to get everyone out of here alive.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yay! The Eighth Division!” Kusajishi celebrated by waving her hands in the air. “See, I told you we were going the right way.”

“Yachiru, that’s what you said two divisions ago,” Zaraki said, but still looked at her with pride.

Uryū pressed his hand against the wall, chest heaving in order to catch his breath. Inoue stood beside him, one hand on a knee while the other rubbed against her forehead. Meanwhile, Zaraki hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Do you think we’re really in the Eighth Division?” Uryū asked the moment his lungs stopped burning.

“I’m not sure.” Inoue straightened and turned. “I suppose it does look different than the other areas we’ve been in.”

He lifted his head. The streets broke off into sets of stairs, each leading up to buildings on varying levels. There were signs on the walls, and he stepped towards one and read aloud, “’The Pleasure District, the Eighth’s Home to all things...’”

His face heated up by at least ten degrees when he saw what the rest of the sign read. It shouldn’t surprise him for a division to have that.

“What’s wrong, Ishida?” He whirled around at Inoue’s question. Adjusting his glasses, he backed up to conceal the sign. She pushed up on her toes to peer over his shoulder. “What does the rest of the sign say?”

“N-nothing important. Just the way to a bar, but at least we know we’re in the Eighth Division like the lieutenant said.”

Kusajishi stood on Zaraki’s shoulder and danced. “See, I told you so!” she sang. After her celebration, she looked around in deep thought and pointed towards a set of stairs ahead of them. “And the barracks are that way!”

A smirk streaked across Zaraki’s face. Without question, he dashed up the stairs while she stayed perfectly balanced on her perch.

 _Not again._ Inoue and Uryū followed after, but not before he caught a glimpse of another sign. He made out the word ‘barracks,’ and it pointed to a set of steps they were rushing by.

“Uhh...” He swallowed down the protest to keep from incurring the captain’s wrath. Rather, he made a note of the sign’s location. It shouldn’t be hard to forget, as it was directly across from the... _Pleasure District._

How was he going to redirect the two into the right direction?

Turned out, he didn’t have to. After several meters, Kusajishi directed them to turn back around. Zaraki jumped and flew back down the stairs to where they started. He paused, looking to the left and right several times.

‘Go left,’ Uryū urged him. ‘For the love of mantels, turn left!’

His heart dropped when Kusajishi started to point towards the right. She hesitated, and then pointed to the left with a big smile. Zaraki guffawed and sped upwards.

It was a miracle, pure and simple. Uryū sighed out of relief and could only hope Tamiko was having better luck with Madarame and Ayasegawa.

At the top of the steps was a large square ringed by buildings. One of the buildings was in shambles as if something--or someone--had blown it up recently. A rope barrier and a warning sign served as a detriment for any wanderers.

“Where Sado lost,” Inoue whispered, and now that she mentioned it, it made sense. Uryū stared at the rubble, wondering who caused it.

“Ah, good morning!” a voice called out, drawing his attention upward.

On the roof of another building, laid a man with a straw hat over his face and arm behind his neck. He was waving despite not looking at them. Not much of his attire could be made out, but he appeared to be wearing a pink floral kimono draped over his shoulders.

Zaraki grinned at him, hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō. “Shunsui Kyōraku,” he said. “The Captain of Squad Eight. A worthy opponent.”

Kyōraku tilted his hat back with the tip of his finger. “Kenpachi Zaraki, Squad Eleven Captain. Along with a pair of ryoka. This is a surprise. Are you here to partake in some sake?”

“We’ve come to free the ryoka you have in your cell.” He drew his sword and thrusted it in his direction.

“Oh, is that all?” He adjusted his hat and dug through his sleeves. A mask of confusion contorted his face, and he patted his chest and waist. “Now, where did I put those keys? Hmm... oh, here they are! Catch!”

A key ring appeared from his hakama. It sailed through the air and landed at Zaraki’s feet. He stared down, his grin fading away.

Uryū’s mind twisted at the sight of it, trying to register what just happened. The captain who defeated and captured Sado just handed him over without question. It had to be a trap. He was luring them into a false sense of security. Every muscle in his body tightened, aching to fight back.

Zaraki’s teeth gritted into a snarl. His head jerked towards the roof. “You coward! Why just hand us the captive without a fight?”

Kyōraku shrugged, laying back with both arms behind his head. “We all know you’d win and get the keys anyway. I figured, why not cut the middle man? That way, I can still get a little shuteye before the execution.”

His condescending words sent Zaraki to shake with rage. A vein pulsed on his temple. “ _Bastard!_ ” he roared. “You’re a captain of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads! Where’s your sense of pride?”

There didn’t appear to be a counter argument. Kyōraku didn’t budge. Zaraki crouched, preparing to leap up and land the first strike.

Before he could, a young woman appeared beside Kyōraku. Her hair was pulled back, and she wore a lieutenant’s badge.

“Sir, your presence has been requested. It’s urgent,” she said.

He answered with a groan. “How urgent?”

“Captain Ukitake didn’t say. He just wants you to meet him at the central library immediately.”

“You go.” He waved her off with an extra loud yawn. “Tell him I’m busy or somethin’.”

She pushed up her glasses. “Normally, I would gladly obey your orders, but Captain Ukitake expressly stated that he needed your assistance.”

With another groan, he pushed himself up. “Fine, fine. I’ll go see what Jūshirō wants.” He looked down on the group with his hat tipped to the side. “You’ll find the ryoka down in cell ‘C.’ Oh, and let’s keep our little conversation between us. No need to bother old man Yama or the higher ups with it.”

Zaraki unleashed a stream of curses, but they went ignored. Kyōraku and his lieutenant disappeared without a further word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quiet, lush groove of trees enfolded around Thirteen’s barracks. Birds chirped in the branches above them as they crept towards the edge. Tamiko peered around the tree at the building. Not a soul was outside. All of the energy was clustered within the walls.

Madarame stepped up beside her, holding his sheathed blade horizontally in front of him. There was a blood-thirsty glint in his eyes. “Alright! Time for some action--” He froze mid step when she grabbed his sleeve. “Hey! What’s your problem?”

“I don’t think we should storm the building.”

“W-what?”

“That building is jam-packed with enemies. Running in with weapons raised would draw everyone’s attention.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “So what? I can take ‘em.”

There was no doubt about that. She figured he and Ayasegawa could handle a horde easily enough. But she owed it to Ukitake not to let his men get injured.

Not when a squad member faced execution. And after they had lost a lieutenant and so many others. Even though they were complicit with Central 46’s actions, they didn’t deserve more pain.

And she remembered what Yoruichi had said. About how Ukitake diverted their food shipments to those in need in the Rukon districts.

“If we’re not going to charge into the building,” Ayasegawa spoke up, “then do you have an alternative plan?” He stood behind them, eyeing Tamiko with a curious glint in his eyes.

She straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I can slip in, get the keys, and find Ganju.”

A vein popped out over the shiny spot on Madarame’s head. “Then what was the point in us comin’ with ya, if you don’t plan on fightin’?” he demanded.

“Now, Ikkaku,” Ayasegawa chastised. “It isn’t an unreasonable plan. Besides, we’ll be here in case she runs into any trouble.”

“So we’re gonna take orders from some weak human girl then?”

Tamiko snorted at him. “You already take them from a child. You should be used to it by now, _‘Baldy.’_ ”

Her remark earned her a glare. “Yeah, well...” he sputtered and pointed. “Try not to crumble away before we get in there to help ya, ‘Cookie.’”

Kusajishi’s nickname, bestowed upon her just before the group parted ways. Tamiko rolled her eyes as it was used as an insult. Weak. Brittle. It was certainly fitting. Well, she’d show them. Somehow.

She turned on her heel and strode to the barracks without another word.

And she wasn’t the only one.

Inside, no one uttered a sound. The Soul Reapers went about their tasks mechanically, likely grateful just to have something to keep themselves busy. An ache squeezed Tamiko’s heart at the somber atmosphere. But it made it easier for her to slip in and roam the corridors.

Despite feeling relatively safe, she kept her guard up. She stepped with purpose, eyes straight ahead, pretending she belonged. That meant no asking for directions to the offices or prison cells. A member would know the location of such important sections. Especially during wartime.

When no one else was around, she peered into as many rooms as she could. She found a few storage rooms, a bathroom/changing room, and the mess hall. Her stomach growled at the smells wafting from it. She briskly walked away, trying not to think about the last time she had eaten something. What she needed was an office. A seated officer may have stowed the keys away in their desk.

It was a couple of doors later that she found one. An office not unlike the one back home with a desk on the far end. Filing cabinets stood at attention behind it. Bookshelves stuffed with folders and books lined the right wall and charts hung on the opposite. She sneezed from the musty, stale air. A thin layer of dust clung to everything, as if no one had used the room in a while.

She stepped in and closed the door behind her. With her reiryoku pulled low in the hopes of concealing her presence, she made a beeline for the desk.

Ink bottles and brushes rattled together when she pulled a drawer open. Nothing. Carefully, she rummaged through the others. When no keys turned up, she turned her sights on the cabinets. It was unlikely for them to be there, but it was best to leave no stone unturned. She grasped the handle, ready to pull it open.

The door creaked behind her, and she jumped about half a meter into the air. She whirled around and watched a bespectacled man in a shihakusho step into the room. He held up a pair of keys, a gentle expression on his face.

“Are these what you’re looking for?” His voice was soft, as if he was asking the question to a small child.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. There was no reason to be afraid. Ukitake was on their side, after all.

The man strode forward, bearing the air of authority. “Perhaps I should introduce myself,” he said, halting in front of her. He bowed at the waist. “My name is Hidetomo Kajōmaru. I am Thirteen’s Sixth Seat. And you are?”

She swallowed and answered, “Tamiko Kimura.” Her voice sounded smaller than she had intended, so she held her head straighter. “I’m a ryoka from the World of the Living.”

“Yes, I thought as much. My captain informed me that you might come.”

So Ukitake had sent word to some of his men. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind until that moment, but somehow, her shoulders felt a lot lighter. She looked at the keys. “If that’s the case, do you plan to just give them to me?”

His eyes slid over to his hand. He curled his fingers around the keys before he stowed them into a sleeve and folded his arms. “Kimura, I would like you to tell me something. What do you know of wars?”

“I know that they’re deadly,” she promptly answered. Where was he going with this?

“They are indeed.” He gave her a brief smile. “You see, a war is where two sides fight for justice. Take this conflict as an example. We Soul Reapers are fighting to uphold our laws, which protect--”

“You’re fighting to uphold unjust laws.”

The words came out before she could stop them. She looked him directly in the eye, anger burning through her chest. But she held back. The last thing she needed was to start a conflict with an armed man.

His soft expression remained. “Go on,” he said with a nod. “How are our laws unjust?”

She took a deep breath and began, “For starters, there are people in the Rukon districts starving to death. Food’s so expensive, they have to forgo decent clothing in order to pay for it. The only way to get a decent meal is join a military force that could care less about them!”

He tilted his head, confusion dancing in his eyes. “Ah, but that doesn’t explain how our laws are unjust.” A hand came out of his sleeve, and he held up a finger. “There are plenty of work opportunities that supply citizens with food.”

“Yeah, toiling in fields for scraps.”

“From what you’ve seen. My family, for example, are sculptors. We hire plenty of Rukon residents to work within our shops, and they’re paid well.”

Her cheeks flared with embarrassment. She hadn’t even thought about shops, having only seen a few merchants. And Yoruichi had made it seem like joining the Soul Reaper academy was the only way to obtain a decent meal.

Tamiko shook her head and moved on to her next talking point, “Rukia Kuchiki.”

“What about her?” Kajōmaru asked, returning the hand to his sleeve.

“She was sentenced to death all because she gave her powers to a human. Which not only saved her life, but the lives of the humans she was sent to protect. And now you have a captain that was likely murdered by one of his peers, but my friends and I are the ones being locked away.”

Her voice broke and tears flooded her eyes.

An encouraging smile spread across his face, so she continued, “You’re fighting to uphold laws made by entitled, privileged jerks who care less about the needs of the people.”

“You have a lot of honor for one so young,” he said, pulling the keys out of his sleeve. She choked back a sob and held out her hands. They dropped into them with a jangle. His smile grew, and he rested a hand on top of her head. “And such a kind heart. Hold onto them. They could help change the world.”

Her hands shakily wrapped around the keys. She stared at him for a minute before bowing. “T-thank you.”

And without waiting for another response, she pushed past him and ran out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The whole building trembled. Screams erupted as people dove out of the way to keep from being trampled. Zaraki tore a warpath through the barracks. He didn’t bother with the doors. He preferred creating his own. And it was all because he was denied a fight?

Uryū and Inoue kept their distance, trying to find the proper way to the prison cells. The floor shook under their feet as Zaraki slammed through another wall. Uryū leaned against the wall to keep from stumbling.

Inoue offered her hand to him, but he waved her off. He pushed away and continued, hoping they wouldn’t be crushed to death.

One good thing about the insane captain’s rampage: They went completely ignored. Everyone was so busy either trying to stop him or get away. It seemed the barracks were laid out in a similar way, as they soon found the stairway leading into the basement.

Like the Sixth Division, the cells were divided into separate rooms. They were labeled with the Latin alphabet, starting with ‘A’ right beside the stairs. Uryū couldn’t remember seeing such labels in the other division.

“Sado’s supposed to be in ‘C’,” Inoue whispered, walking down the corridor. She stopped in front of the third door. He joined her and carefully opened it.

Inside was the square room, sanctioned off by iron bars. The space beyond only held a bed, a chair, and a muscular figure. Sado sat on the chair, shackled hands in his lap. His head was tilted towards the ceiling, but lowered when the two stepped into the room. He jumped up. “Inoue. Ishida. How’d you get here?”

“It’s a long story.” Uryū pulled out the key ring and undid the cell door.

With a creak, it opened. Inoue dashed to Sado’s side. “How are your injuries?” she asked, eyeing the bandages peeking out from under his yukata.

“They’re fine. Healing.” He held up the shackles for Uryū to undo them. They fell away with clang, and he rubbed at his wrists. “What about Ichigo and the others?”

“Tamiko’s alright. She’s gone to the Thirteenth to free Ganju.” Inoue’s answer caused him to let out a breath.

“That’s a relief. We were together. Until I tossed her over a wall.”

Uryū’s head jerked up. “You tossed her over a...”

His words trailed off as the building shook around them. He looked up at the ceiling and watched as a tiny crack formed within it. Thankfully, it didn’t get any bigger and the shaking ceased.

“An earthquake?” Sado asked.

“More like an insane asylum escapee on a rampage.” He adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowing into a glare. “Why did you toss Tamiko over a wall?”

“We were being chased. By dozens of Soul Reapers.”

“So you tossed her to keep from being hurt?” Inoue asked.

He nodded, eyes dropping to the floor. “I thought I’d be able to find her again. But they chased me into an unfamiliar area.” His voice trembled with remorse.

Uryū softened his expression and looked away. It sounded like he truly believed he had been doing the right thing. He had no idea what was going to happen to her afterwards, so he couldn’t fault him for it.

Like with Inoue, he felt it was best he didn’t know the torture Tamiko had been through. Besides, talking about it would only bring his lack of power into question. He couldn’t let his weakness show. Not to anyone.

“What about Ichigo?” Sado’s question snapped him back to reality.

“Training,” he answered, holding himself straighter. “Apparently learning something called ‘Bankai.’”

A flicker of a smile came to his face. “Sounds like him. Training to get stronger so he can save Kuchiki at the last minute.”

“He does have to be the big hero, doesn’t he?” Uryū shook his head, moving to push up his glasses.

Inoue giggled at him, but before he could question her, the shaking resumed. A loud noise sounded overhead. They snapped towards the ceiling. The tiny crack grew, snaking through the stone.

Uryū yelped at Sado grabbing his collar. He pulled him into one of his arms while Inoue was brought into the other. Rubble rained down, but nothing hit them.

Craning his neck, Uryū saw the edge of an orange shield above Sado. Inoue managed to call upon her powers without reciting the chant. He swallowed, feeling grateful but ashamed to have to be protected by them.

A much larger piece of rubble dropped beside them, flinging debris against Sado’s arms. On top of the broken ceiling, stood Zaraki. He grinned and raised to his full height. “Finally found you.”

“I told you they were down here!” Kusajishi laughed from her perch on his shoulder.

“Yachiru, you told me that they were upstairs. If I hadn’t heard their voices, we’d still be lookin’ for ‘em.”

No one else spoke a word. Uryū stared at the pair, stunned by Zaraki’s recklessness. Were they going to survive with him long enough to be reunited with the others?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A corridor of prison cells greeted her as she descended the stairs. Luckily, the barracks appeared to have the same layout. It took no time for Tamiko to locate the stairs leading into the basement level of the building. Now she only needed to find which cell he was in.

With his reiryoku suppressed, she couldn’t trace it. She reached out to sense for any guards, but there weren’t any. It seemed strange at first, but she remembered Ukitake’s stance on the cuffs. Ganju was weak enough as it was. Having guards posted at all times would feel excessive.

So she peered around each door until she found him. He sat in a cell that wasn’t nearly as bare as hers had been. Not only did it contain a bed, but it was furnished with a small tea table and a pair of cushions. Ganju sat on one, staring into a cup of tea clutched in a bandaged hand. A plate filled with rice cakes laid, untouched, on the center of the table.

He looked up as the door squeaked open. His eyes went wide, and he hastily moved the bandage away from his mouth. “Tamiko! Is that you? What are you doin’ here?”

She jangled the keys. “I’m freeing you,” she said and walked up to the cell door.

“How did you get those?”

“I have my ways.” Shrugging her shoulders, she inserted the key. With a big smile, she swung the door open. “There!”

Her smile disappeared when he didn’t jump up in elation. He stared at her for a moment before returning to his tea. “You should go. Before someone comes and locks you up too.”

“No one’s going to come. Thirteen’s on our side.”

“Yeah, I getcha.”

His reaction was underwhelming. She had expected him to question it or react in anger, but instead he swirled the tea around. No steam came up from it, having gone cold sometime before.

“Oh, Captain Ukitake must have told you of his plans,” Tamiko said, stepping closer to the table. “To help rescue Rukia.”

Ganju hummed in confirmation.

Unsure of what else to say, she gripped her arm. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t know him all that well. Only what he had told her about his brother. He had to be confused, having been treated with kindness by Ukitake.

She eyed the rice cakes, biting her lip. Her stomach begged for a taste and belted out a growl. Ganju pushed the plate closer to the other end of the table where the second cushion sat.

“You can have ‘em. I don’t know why they gave me any food. Can’t feel hunger with these things on my wrists,” he said, the shackles clinking together as he held them up.

Unable to resist the temptation, Tamiko kneeled on the cushion and snagged a rice cake. She took a bite, finding it to be coated in sweet red bean paste. It didn’t take her long to devour it and grab seconds.

“I guess you haven’t had much to eat lately, huh?” He managed a small laugh, watching her. “Careful not to overdo it.”

With her mouth full, she could only nod in response. She decided to stop at only two, but mainly because she already felt full. Her stomach must have shrunk over the last few days.

He he held out the cup to her. “Here. Don’t worry. I didn’t take a drink, but it’s gone cold.”

“Thank you.” She took a small sip and then a bigger one, realizing how perched she was. When it was empty, she set it back down on the table with a satisfied sigh. “We should probably get going, if we’re going to get to the execution on--”

“I met the Soul Reaper who killed my brother.”

Her head snapped up to meet his eyes. They were serious, focused. She closed her mouth and nodded for him to continue.

“For some reason, I never learned her name. All I knew about her was her face. The lack of remorse that she had when she admitted to killing Kaien.”

“And you just... ran into her and recognized her?”

“You could say that.” He paused to swallow. “I saw her inside the Senzauikyū.”

An image of the white tower flashed in her mind. Tamiko sat back on her heels, waiting for him to deny what he just said. But his eyes held their expression. Her mind spun in an attempt to piece everything together.

“Are... are you certain?” She cringed at how insensitive the question sounded. Of course he was certain. One could never forget the memory of their sibling bleeding out. But for Rukia to have killed someone, let alone a superior officer, was hard to believe. “S-sorry.”

“Hey, I get it. Rukia’s the person you guys are tryin’ so hard to rescue. You had no idea.”

“Does this mean you don’t want to help us anymore?”

Ganju’s hands tightened into fists, and he shook his head. “Don’t go jumpin’ to conclusions on me. You gotta hear the rest of the story first.”

Once again, he told Kaien Shiba’s story. But this time, it was what actually happened. He had been taken over by a Hollow. It had done the same to his wife and eaten her from the inside. Ukitake tried to fight him himself, but succumbed to his illness in the middle of battle. Hollow Kaien launched himself on Rukia, who had her sword drawn. He fell on it, resulting in his death.

Tamiko took a deep breath, tasting the rice cakes again at the images.

“It was Captain Ukitake who told me,” Ganju continued after a brief pause. “Told me that he had stopped Rukia from rushing in to help, lettin’ Kaien fight with honor.”

“And that’s what he forgave them for,” she whispered. “For not stepping in to save him, so he could fight on his own terms.”

He nodded and leaned forward for her to unlock the cuffs. They fell with a clatter onto the table. His arms stretched out wide; he stood and rolled his shoulders with a satisfied groan.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, yelling voices leaked through the ceiling. Overhead, people were rushing, exclaiming about someone from Squad Eleven demanding a fight.

“I guess Madarame got impatient,” Tamiko mumbled, staring upward.

“Huh? Madarame?” Ganju blinked, lowering his arms. “The bald-headed, loudmouth guy?”

“That’s the one.”

She jumped up and snagged the remaining rice cakes. No sense in letting good food go to waste when the others were probably hungry too. Then they dashed up the stairs.

Outside, Soul Reapers were clustered together in front of the doors. Tamiko stood on her toes, peering over them. Only Madarame’s shiny head and sheathed blade could be seen.

“Come on, you cowards!” he yelled. “Isn’t there anyone brave enough to fight me?”

A girl’s voice answered, “Ya idiot! What do ya think you’re doin’?”

“S-Shino?”

“What are ya drunk? If ya wanna fight so bad, go find a ryoka or one of your Eleven pals. Don’t come whinin’ to us just ‘cause you’re bored.”

“Ya can’t tell me what to do! I’m a Third Seat, and you’re just a puny no-rank soldier.”

His insult sent a flurry of curses from the girl, and he responded with several of his own.

“That dunderhead,” Ganju grumbled behind Tamiko. “He’s gonna get us caught for sure.”

She settled on the soles of her feet and glanced around. Everyone’s attention was on the arguing pair. They hadn’t noticed the obvious escaped ryoka in bandages and white yukata.

“Maybe not,” she said and turned to him. A small smile formed on her face. “Let’s go find you a proper uniform, and we can slip by. No problem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were looking up, and Tamiko caught herself smiling as she sprinted behind Madarame and Ayasegawa. Ganju was running beside her. No one of the Thirteenth was giving chase, despite the clear disturbance Madarame had caused--Ayasegawa had to drag him away. And the others would be rescuing Chad and heading towards the large tree in the Tenth Division.

But, in the back of her mind, she worried about Ichigo. If he doesn’t turn up soon with his newly acquired Bankai, their efforts would go to waste.

“Hey, Tamiko.”

She turned towards Ganju. “What is it?”

“Just how the hell did you wind up with these two anyway?”

“Oh. Long story short, they assigned themselves as our bodyguards. Just so they can fight Ichigo again.”

Ganju rolled his eyes at the back of Ayasegawa’s head. “Why am I not surprised?” he mumbled. “Wait a second. That prissy Soul Reaper didn’t even fight Ichigo. He fought me!”

Ayasegawa looked over his shoulder. “Hm? What are you talking about?”

“We fought! And I kicked your sorry ass. How could you have forgotten?” Through the bandages, his face contorted with despise.

“Sorry. I tend to forget ugly faces.”

“’U-ugly?’ For your information, I happen to look pretty cool. Right, Tamiko?”

Before she could respond, Ayasegawa scoffed. “As if someone with your features could ever be considered ‘cool.’” He tilted his head back so his wrinkled nose was high up in the air.

Ganju’s reiatsu exploded with rage. “Why you--”

As he grabbed Ayasegawa’s collar, two even stronger pressures shook the air. The group jerked towards the source.

Two Soul Reapers stood on a nearby roof. Both of them wore lieutenants’ badges on their left arms. One had on a pair of sunglasses, the other had scars running down the right side of his face. Tamiko swore she had seen them somewhere before.

“Why if it aren’t the lieutenants of Squads Seven and Nine,” Ayasegawa said in his condescending voice. “Tetsuzaemon Iba and Shuhei Hisagi. What do we owe the pleasure?”

“We’ve received word that you’re aiding the ryoka,” the scarred Soul Reaper answered. He bore the number 69 tattooed on his left cheek.

His voice. That’s why they looked so familiar. They were the ones who helped carry Aizen’s Zanpakutō.

Ganju released Ayasegawa and returned to her side. His body muscles bulged, tightening up. Her own muscles tensed, preparing to run at a moment’s notice.

A smirk snaked across Madarame’s face. “Yeah, what’s it to ya? Are ya gonna fight us if we are?”

“Those are our orders, given to us by our captains.” The lieutenant in sunglasses folded his arms and returned the expression. “We’re to engage with anyone who stands in our way.”

Madarame laughed maniacally. “About time.” He drew his blade and bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’ve been waitin’ all morning for a good battle.”

“I should have expected as much. Fighting and drinking are all you ever think about, Madarame.” The scarred man reached for his own weapon. His eyes scanned the group, landing on Tamiko and Ganju.

“Are those two the ryoka?” his companion asked.

“They are. Neither of them have a sword, and their pressures are weak. Our main priority is capturing them.”

Tamiko glared at them, flexing her reiatsu. Weak. She was weak. Even with a weapon, she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to face either of them. A fluttering went through her chest. ‘I want to be stronger.’

“Quit your yammerin’!” Madarame bellowed. “It’s time to fight. Extend, Hōzukimaru!”

In a burst of reiatsu, the lieutenants disappeared. They reappeared before Madarame and Ayasegawa, weapons drawn. As they began to clash, she grabbed Ganju’s arm.

“We should run,” she said.

He nodded and turned on his heel. Side by side, they bolted from the battlefield.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They collapsed at the base of the ancient red pine tree. One hand clutched at her chest while the other pressed into her side. Pain ripped through her abdomen as if the wound hadn’t been treated recently. Judging by the gasps coming from Ganju, he was in just as much pain as she was, if not more so.

But they were well away from the battle. Iba and Hisagi were too preoccupied to give chase. With any luck, they would be for a long time.

Tamiko pulled herself up against one of the tree’s large roots. “Are you alright, Ganju?”

He groaned and lifted up a thumb. “Couldn’t be... better,” he answered, still working on catching his breath. “Yourself?”

“Just glad we got away.”

“Me too.” His hand spread out and hit the grass.

While they took a moment to rest, she looked around. There was no sign of the others, and she couldn’t grasp their reiryoku. She thumped her head against the bark, reminding herself not to worry. Any minute, they’d arrive.

‘Then we’ll have a few minutes to get to Sōkyoku Hill,’ she thought, leaning forward to see it beyond the tree’s branches. A cluster of reiryoku was beginning to gather up there. ‘Will we make it in time? And what about Ichigo?’

Now that she thought about it, she had no clue where he was. He could be anywhere in the Seireitei, far from the execution site. She brought her knees to her chest, the despair creeping back in.

“That tree’s bigger than our cannon,” Ganju remarked. He was sprawled out on his back, head tilted to take in the red pine’s sprawling branches.

“A Soul Reaper from the Fourth told me that it’s been here since before the squads were founded.”

“Is that right? Sure does look old.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Hey, I know someone from the Fourth. A little pipsqueak named Yamada.”

“Oh, yeah. He mentioned meeting you and Ichigo. Helped with my wound.” She patted her side, breathing a sigh of relief as the pain was easing up.

He massaged and rolled his shoulders. “Healed me too. Sure could use ‘im right about now.”

Her worries turned to Yamada, wondering if he reached Abarai in time to help. She hoped they were alright as well and hugged her knees tighter.

And then, she sprang up. Familiar reiryoku tugged at her heart. Two energies, one strong and the other as delicate as a flower. Tamiko rushed to meet them.

Chad appeared first, his long stride to his advantage. He looked fine, aside from the sweat matting his brown curls. Tears pooled in her eyes.

They met, and his arms enveloped her. She pressed her face against his stomach, her sobs soaking into the shihakusho he was wearing. He whispered, “Tamiko,” and nothing more. He was okay.

Orihime’s soft reiryoku raced to their side. Tamiko pulled away from Chad, creating an opening for her to fit in. “Are you alright, Tamiko?” she asked breathlessly.

“I’m fine. We ran into a pair of lieutenants, but our bodyguards distracted them.”

“Us too, but with captains. Zaraki’s taking them on by himself.” Her voice tinted with guilt.

No surprise there, but at least they had been able to escape danger as well. Tamiko hugged them tighter, expelling a sob of relief.

“This is great!” Ganju exclaimed as he approached them. A grin flickered on his face. “Seein’ ya reunited again.” There was a tiny hint of envy in his voice.

Tamiko cast a smile over her shoulder. She held out a hand to him. “What are you talking about? You’re a part of this reunion too!”

He clasped her hand, and she pulled him to them. His arms went around her and Orihime. Tamiko’s heart ached, but not with despair. With happiness at having her friends with her again. Except... someone was missing.

“Uryū? Where is he?” she asked, squirming to break out of the group hug. Chad let her go and stepped out of the way.

And there he stood, several feet away from them. His reiryoku was still a small ball in the center of his being. So small she couldn’t even sense it without looking at him.

Ganju cupped the hands around his mouth and called out, “What are ya doin’ all the way over there?”

“Yeah, Ishida!” Orihime chimed in with a smile. “Come and join us!”

He stood as still as a statue. After a moment, he turned away from them and pushed up his glasses.

Tamiko reached out towards him and stepped forward. It wasn’t the first time he had kept his distance from everyone else. But for some reason, it felt sadder. Those other times had been out of choice, but now...

Reiatsu blared in her ears. She snapped towards Sōkyoku Hill, and whispered, “Ichigo.”

A blue light shot up into the sky from the execution site. That could only mean one thing. The execution has started, and their happy reunion would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a Grand New Year to everyone! With the posting of this chapter, I am officially on a holiday break. I won't be working on anything Reaching Out related until after the first of the year. Meaning, this is the last chapter of 2020. But not the end of this part or the series, not be a long-shot. The rest, and hopefully the second part, are coming in the next year, so stick around!


	21. The Hōgyoku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fighting isn't over yet. In fact, it's only just beginning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

Every breath drawn in took effort, the air thick with clashing pressures. The entire Seireitei was plunged into chaos the instant the execution started. No, it started the moment they fell into the city.

Sōkyoku Hill loomed before them. From its peak came the dreadful aroma of cherry blossoms. Ichigo’s raging reiatsu slammed against it. Their inevitable showdown has began.

They needed to get up there, to support him. But Tamiko couldn’t get her feet up. It was like they rooted themselves to the ground. Sweat soaked through the armpits of her shihakusho, and her heart thudded.

‘ _Useless_ ,’ she chastised herself. ‘You can’t even climb a simple flight of stairs. Move your feet and just _go_ already.’

Her thoughts and heart were so loud she could barely hear a word her friends were saying.

Orihime stood a few steps above her asking, “Are you alright, Tamiko?”

“You’ve gone white as a sheet,” Ganju remarked. He and Chad had been running ahead of the group, but came to a stop to look down at them. “Heights really scare ya, don’t they?”

Uryū sprinted to Tamiko’s side. “He’s right. You don’t look so good. Do you want to stay here?”

Chad descended towards her. “If you do, I can keep you company,” he offered.

Tamiko took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and shoved her mind into focusing on their voices and reiryoku. The thudding quieted, but her heart continued to race. Above, Ichigo’s reiatsu faltered ever so briefly. Her fingers curled into fists, and she willed her shoulders to cease trembling.

“I’m okay,” she said, freeing her foot and placing it on the first step. “We’ll go together. For Ichigo and Rukia.”

One foot at a time, she climbed. Chad and Ganju maintained their lead, while Orihime and Uryū stayed by her side. Tamiko fixed her gaze dead ahead. She had no clue how high up they were going, and she didn’t want to know. All that mattered was reaching Ichigo.

So he’d know he wasn’t fighting alone.

“Wait. Isn’t that Abarai?” Uryū asked, breaking the stretch of silence.

“Looks like he’s carryin’ something,” Ganju mumbled.

Tamiko stopped, one foot already on an upper step. She cautioned a glance to the side, catching Abarai in the act of falling past them. He was clutching something--someone--in his arms. Their face was hidden behind his sleeve, but black hair rippled in the wind.

“It’s Rukia!” The response to her exclamation was immediate. Everyone whirled to face her and then towards the ledge.

“Really?” Chad asked, bending in an attempt to get a better look. He straightened, his shoulders squaring with encouragement. His brows knitted together as he glanced upward.

Orihime clapped her hands together, a small smile blooming on her face. “Had to be! Those were definitely her feet I saw.”

“That’s great!” Ganju exclaimed, and then he put his hand on his chin. “Why, though? I thought he was against us savin’ her.”

“His defeat to Kurosaki changed his position,” Uryū answered. Even he wore a shroud of relief.

“If she’s safe, then why is Ichigo still fighting?” Chad asked before taking a step up to resume climbing.

Shakily, Tamiko lifted her foot to join the other. “He doesn’t have any other choice but to...” She trailed off to take a breath over a wave of dizziness. “...fight. Especially Kuchiki.”

Uryū held out his hand to her, but she ignored it, taking another step up. “Not only that, but in order to truly help her, any ideas of her execution must be expunged. Kurosaki’s putting his life on the line for that very reason.”

That was still so many people. Well over half of the thirteen divisions. At least two captains stood against the execution--possibly three, if the Captain of Squad Eight could be trusted. And one captain was dead.

Aizen’s Zanpakutō, covered with a white sheet flashed through her mind. The captains and lieutenants who carried it had moved and spoken so somberly, as if they had been escorting the body itself. What if...

The stairs flipped over, toppling Tamiko. Arms on either side caught her before she could get anywhere near the ground. Uryū and Orihime pulled her up to lean against them, their eyes soft with concern.

“Perhaps we should get you back down,” Uryū suggested, head lifting up. “There’s still a long way to go.”

“N-no.” Tamiko found his and Orihime’s hands. She held to them tightly, afraid that if she didn’t, she’d fall off. “Keep going.”

Orihime squeezed back and said, “He’s right. We’re barely half way up. Are you sure you can?”

She wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. No stupid fear of heights was going to keep her from being there for her friends. If she couldn’t conquer that, then what hope would she have of ever getting stronger?

“I’m not going too...” Her eyes clenched shut as the ground swooped again. It reminded her of when the Hollow had swung her to and fro. She swallowed against a burning in her throat. “...abandon Ichigo. Or anyone else.”

Footsteps descended on them. She opened her eyes a crack to watch Chad kneel down with his back to her.

“Put her on me,” he said. “I’ll carry her.”

Too sick to argue, Tamiko allowed herself to be set on top of him. Her arms draped over his shoulders and knees tucked underneath his forearms. Not unlike how he had carried her when she became exhausted on the first day of the invasion. He straightened and walked as if he carried nothing at all.

‘I’m always having to rely on others,’ she thought, burying her face into his shaggy hair. It stunk with sweat, but at least it deadened Kuchiki’s reiatsu. ‘When will I be able to do things myself?’

Her chest fluttered with a longing to be stronger. In that moment, she wanted to stop being a weakling. To suddenly gain immense strength then and there. But such a desire was _impossible_. It would take years to gain the reiryoku to rival a captain’s. Decades even.

But somehow, Ichigo was able to do so. His reiatsu was going toe to toe with Kuchiki’s. And as soon as they crested the top of the hill, they were blasted by a burst of wind created from their battle.

Tamiko clung to Chad’s neck in fear of being blown off. A scream reverberated up her throat and was lost in the gale. His hold on her legs tightened, squeezing them nearly to the point of bursting, but securing her against him.

Sounds arose as the wind died down. Orihime’s screams. Chad’s grunts. Ganju’s groans. Uryū’s gasps. No one had been blown away. Their hair and clothes were disheveled, but they were still together.

And standing at the edge of a dense forest. Its trees were white and barren, completely devoid of life. Tamiko shivered, goosebumps rising on her arms.

“You okay, Tamiko?” Chad asked and loosened his hold. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m good. Just please stay far away from that ledge.”

“Got it.”

Uryū smoothed out his bangs and adjusted his glasses. “Was that wind created by Kurosaki and Kuchiki’s battle? I can’t see anyone through these trees.”

“No doubt that it’s Kurosaki,” Orihime said, taking a deep breath. “No matter how strong it gets, his reiatsu always smells the same.”

“You... smell his reiatsu?” His voice trembled ever so slightly with surprise.

She nodded, a softness dancing in her eyes.

“What does it smell like?” Tamiko asked.

The answer came in a wistful voice, “Like a basket of oranges drenched in chocolate at a fireworks’ festival.” It was so detailed and specific. She’s had to have smelled it so many times to develop such a clear picture. Knowing Ichigo, there had been plenty of opportunities.

‘I’ve never noticed a scent to his reiatsu,’ Tamiko thought, and she looked at Uryū, who was studying Orihime with brows knitted together. ‘But I could smell his.’

She had known since training that her spiritual senses were more sensitive than Orihime’s and Chad’s. That was why she smelled Uryū’s pressure, or so she had assumed. And his wasn’t the only one.

Her nose caught the scent of cherry blossoms. The odor was so strong, she swore she saw flowers bursting on the bone-like branches. “Can anyone else smell cherry blossoms?”

Every single one of her friends stated that they couldn’t. The question earned her a couple of worried glances. Well that proved no one’s senses had changed, so what caused someone to smell someone’s pressure?

‘Orihime does have a crush on Ichigo.’ The thought sent her cheeks ablaze. Horror squeezed every organ in her body, and she glared at the trees. No way she crushed on _him_. Surely there were other factors that Yoruichi didn’t have time to go over. Anything other than _that_.

“Tamiko, are you sure you’re feeling well?” Uryū’s voice pulled her back to him. His perplexed expression was fixed on her. “Your face is red, and you’re still shaking.”

She took in a deep breath and swallowed against a gag. “I’m... I’m okay,” she managed to get out.

Another blast of reiatsu tore past them. It wasn’t as strong as the first, but enough to make Uryū and Orihime stumble backwards. He caught her arm and suggested, “We should head back down. It isn’t safe here.”

Orihime shook her head and planted her feet firmly on the ground. “Thank you, but I want to stay,” she replied. Her arms clutched each other over her middle as she stared straight ahead. A worried, but determined vigil. “I’m sorry...”

Was she apologizing to him? Or to Ichigo for not trying to help?

Tamiko placed her chin on Chad’s shoulder, longing yet again to be stronger. To be able to rush to his aid and not be someone he had to protect. She got the sense everyone felt the same. Especially Orihime.

Silence hung over the group. Their attention focused on a battle they couldn’t see. Ichigo and Kuchiki seemed evenly matched in terms of pressure. Neither one out powered the other. At least, until Kuchiki’s rocketed up, nearly drowning out Ichigo’s. Tamiko buried her face back in Chad’s hair, but sweat could no longer block out that odor.

It was the end. Just like that. All of Ichigo’s training couldn’t stand up to the centuries of experience his opponent has.

Ichigo lost.

And disappeared off the face of the world.

No one breathed a word or moved a muscle. Their eyes didn’t look away from the forest, bewildered by the sudden silence and still air.

Orihime was the first to break it, letting out a high-pitched cry. She moved to run into the trees, but stopped short.

A spark of reiatsu flickered. Then burst to life.

Except it wasn’t Ichigo. A familiar ache exploded deep within Tamiko’s stomach, her muscles tightening. _A Hollow. But how?_

No one exclaimed in fear. Orihime breathed out and shoulders lowered. Even Uryū remained staring at the trees with his usual intense scowl. No one seemed to notice the change.

The Hollow’s pressure soared, shaking through the air. Buried deep within it, was Ichigo. It was merely a balm on her fears, but at least he wasn’t completely gone. Again, how?

Tamiko craned her neck, wishing to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Nothing but dead trees. To move any closer would put themselves in even more danger. In any case, it seemed like it gave Ichigo the upper hand. Now it was Kuchiki’s pressure that was being dwarfed.

As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. Ichigo returned, weakened, but very much alive.

It made no sense. She opened her mouth to bring it up, but the words lodged into her throat. Maybe that was for the best. Whatever had happened would only distress her friends further. As long as he was still standing, that was all that mattered.

The minutes ticked by, and at least, two words found their way out of her, “Kuchiki’s gone.”

All eyes turned towards her. Even Chad’s, as he looked at her out of the side of his eye. “Gone how?” he asked.

“Do you mean he’s dead?” Uryū’s question immediately followed.

“No, just that his pressure is further away. I can’t sense it anymore.”

Orihime’s arms dropped to her side. “Then that means...”

Her words trailed off as someone roared, “I won!”

At the sound of Ichigo’s voice, they charged into the tree graveyard. Tamiko lowered her head to keep from being smacked by a branch, and Chad leaned forward to ensure she wouldn’t be.

Orihime took the lead, weaving between the trunks. Ganju wasn’t far behind her, but he couldn’t fit in the smaller gaps as well as she could. Tamiko lost sight of them when Chad turned to take a detour. She looked over her shoulder, watching Uryū pick his way behind them. His steps were halted, as if something was hindering his movements. Likely from his injuries.

They broke out into a large clearing littered with bright red puddles. Ichigo laid on the ground, his blood soaking in beneath him. Laying beside him was a small, but long black blade. His Zanpakutō in Bankai form. Even his clothing had changed. The kosode was far longer and billowed out into frayed edges.

Already, Orihime was by his side with her Shun Shun Rikka stretching the orange oval over him. Ganju sprinted to her side, followed by Chad. Uryū hung back, but remained in sight.

“Everybody here’s,” Ichigo remarked, voice husky from exhaustion and pain. A grin broke out on his face. “No one’s hurt. That’s good.”

Ganju rolled his eyes. “You knucklehead.” He pointed at the bandages wrapped all over his face. “Do ya think I’m wearin’ these as a fashion statement?”

“Given your poor taste in clothes, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Hey! I’d have ya know that I’m the self-proclaimed best dressed man in all of Rukon.” He puffed out his chest, expression exploding with pride.

“Right.” Ichigo’s eyes moved over all of them, possibly searching for other signs of injury. He stopped on Orihime and asked her, “Are you hurt, Inoue?”

She vigorously shook her head, her hands mimicking the movements. “Oh! No, I’m not hurt at all. Actually, it was Uryū and Squad Eleven who protected me. I was never in any real danger, but...” She trailed off, dropping her hands into her lap. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to help you or anyone else.”

Her voice broke, and tears gathered at the edges of her eyes. As they started to fall, Ichigo lifted his hand. The tips of his fingers met the orange oval hovering over him, unable to reach her. She gathered the hakama into her fists, the flow of tears a steady rain.

A lump formed in Tamiko’s throat. Swallowing it, she whispered into Chad’s ear, “Could you put me down please?”

With a hum, he lowered himself into a crouch. She slid off and landed on unsteady feet. Her hand shot out and caught his shoulder. He frowned, and she returned it with a reassuring, but wan, smile.

She settled on the ground beside Orihime, one hand over a twinge in her abdomen. The other covered a clenched fist and gave it a gentle squeeze. Orihime looked up, a quiet hiccup shaking her shoulders.

“It’s okay. I’m glad...” Tamiko paused to take a steadying breath. “...that we’re all together again. That you weren’t hurt.”

Orihime scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand. When she answered her voice was as small as a grain of rice, “Me too. I’m happy we made it back to each other. Thank you, everyone, for being alright.” She glanced around the group before settling on Ichigo, and a tiny smile formed on her face.

He curled his fingers, letting the back of his hand hit the dirt. The blood that had been around him was receding, as if returning to his body. It escaped his notice, as his entire focus was on Orihime. “No problem, Inoue.”

All became quiet. If the air still wasn’t charged with the reiatsu of ongoing battles, it would have been completely peaceful. How long would they be able to linger before another enemy appeared?

“Hey.” Ichigo’s voice chased away her thoughts. Tamiko tilted her head towards him, noting how the color was returning to his face. “Are you injured, Tamiko? You keep clutchin’ your stomach.”

Now that it was pointed out, she realized her hand was still over the wound. She removed it, mumbling, “Yeah, sort of. Hanatarō Yamada treated it earlier this morning.”

“You ran into him?”

“More like he stumbled onto us. Uryū and me, I mean.”

Ichigo pushed himself on his elbow, looking past her. “You and Ishida? But I could have sworn you and Chad fell together.”

“We did,” Chad responded, and he looked at Tamiko with a sorrowful expression. “We were separated, when I tossed her over a wall.”

“T-tossed?” His eyes went wide.

Since it seemed Chad wasn’t about to explain, Tamiko took up the torch, “A bunch of Soul Reapers discovered us inside a storehouse. They chased us, and to get me away from them, Chad chucked me.” She paused and looked up at him with a smile. “I was okay, though. Used my weapon to catch myself. I hid from a couple of captains and their lieutenants. I didn’t run into any enemies until a group discovered me, and they--”

The memory of four people exploding replayed itself. A sob fused with a gasp came out. Ichigo’s concerned face melted together, the tears scalding her eyes. She switched places with Orihime, her hand being the one squeezed.

Uryū strode until he stood beside Tamiko. “Inoue and I discovered her under attack. I asked two Soul Reapers from Eleven to keep Inoue away from danger, while I engaged the assailants.”

In the quiet that followed, Tamiko took deep, shuddering breaths. Her memory shifted to the moment Uryū stood in white armor with a single reishi wing fluttering behind him. The memory was so vivid, she swore she saw him bearing that appearance now as he stared off into the distance.

His right hand was inches from the top of her head, clutching the silver bow. It disappeared, so she reached up and clasped his hand. He stiffened, turning the intense stare towards her. It slid to their hands, but he didn’t pull away.

“So what happened?” Ichigo asked, and they jerked towards him. He was looking between them with brows knitted together. “After you fought her attackers?”

“That was all,” Uryū answered with a push of his glasses.

Except it wasn’t. And Ichigo knew that, judging by the soft questioning face he was giving Tamiko. But he didn’t press the matter. He looked to Orihime as he began sitting up. “I think that’s good, Inoue. The wound feels like it’s closed up.”

“Really?” Orihime asked, releasing Tamiko’s hand and leaning forward. “Are you sure? Because I can...”

Their conversation faded into the background. Tamiko turned her focus to Uryū’s reiryoku. It was still trapped, while Ganju’s and Chad’s were flowing freely. And their energy had been suppressed for far longer. How was it that his hadn’t returned to normal?

‘It must have happened after the fight with that madman,’ she thought. ‘After I fell unconscious. Was it something that Kuchiki did when he captured us?’

As soon as she thought it, she knew it was wrong. If that had been the case, her own energy would be trapped as well. Whatever happened to Uryū had to be a result of--

That was when he pulled away. Uryū stared at her a moment before he returned to his place outside of the group. Her hand remained hanging in the air. She brought it down into her lap.

Ichigo was up on his feet, stretching out his muscles. Likely to prove he was feeling better. It was all in vain, as he stumbled forward and landed on Ganju’s and Orihime’s shoulders.

“Whoa, take it easy there, pal,” Ganju said and shifted weight to his feet. “You were just up against a formidable foe. Gonna take more than a few minutes of healin’ to get ya back in shape.”

He took his hand off of Orihime. “Yeah, but we need to get moving. Who knows when someone else will come and try to capture us?”

Tamiko snapped to attention, having forgotten they were just sitting in plain sight. She reached towards the city below with her senses. Nothing had changed, the fighting ongoing. And with so many pressures clashing, it was hard to gauge just who was in combat. Hopefully the majority of the captains.

It couldn’t last much longer, though. But it did offer a brief respite.

She reached into her shihakusho and pulled out a bundle wrapped in white cloth. “Why don’t we continue to rest a little longer?” she suggested, unwrapping the red bean paste coated rice cakes.

There were five of them left. Just enough for her friends to have one a piece. Orihime practically drooled at the sight of them. Ganju gulped, eyes locking on to the sweets. Chad’s middle erupted with hunger.

And Ichigo grinned. “Now where’d you get those, Tamiko?” He lowered himself back down across from her, narrowing his eyes. “You didn’t steal them, did you?”

“Just so happens that I _am_ a cat burglar.” She returned the grin and held the food out to him, but he hesitated.

Ganju let out a snort. “Nah, they were given to me this morning. I couldn’t eat ‘em at the time, but she thought to bring them along.” He sat down as well, grabbing a rice cake.

Reassured, Ichigo took one from himself. He took a small bite, quickly followed by a larger one.

“I was only offered sake,” Chad mumbled, leaning over Tamiko’s head to take his share.

No longer able to resist, Orihime kneeled down as well. She lifted a rice cake to her lips and took a bite. Her hand pressed into her cheek as she chewed. “Hmm...”

There was just one left. Tamiko held it towards Uryū, who turned away. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” he said. “You should eat it, Tamiko.”

“I actually had two for myself earlier,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Then just give it to one of the others.”

So Tamiko handed it over to Ichigo, and he took it and split in half. One was given to Orihime, and she stared wide-eyed before accepting it.

“These were just given to you, Ganju?” Ichigo asked between bites.

“Yeah, I was given some food every day. Since my reiryoku was suppressed, I had no appetite. Wound up just givin’ it all to the healer so it wouldn’t go to waste.” Ganju hesitated just before sinking his teeth into the half eaten rice ball.

“Looks like Yoruichi was right about you being in good hands with that Jo-hiro guy.”

Did he mean Ukitake? But more importantly: “You’ve seen Yoruichi?” Tamiko asked.

“Yep. She’s the one who trained me in Bankai.”

It was no surprise that Yoruichi was a good trainer for a cat, but to train someone to use a captain-level technique was mind-boggling. Once more, Abarai had trained with them. Tamiko was sure he hadn’t brought up the absurdity of being taught by an animal.

‘Well, maybe it’s not so weird here,’ she reasoned. ‘I don’t know anything about the training a Soul Reaper goes through. Their instructors could be talking animals for all I know.’ Now she was imagining a training hall with a dog as a sensei.

She snapped back to reality when Ganju said, “I learned more about my brother’s death.”

“You did?” Ichigo asked, his head jerking towards him.

Orihime gave Ganju a gentle expression. Chad sat down, cross-legged, beside Tamiko. Even Uryū’s curiosity was piqued, taking a few steps closer to the group.

Ganju nodded and stuffed the rest of the sweet into his mouth. Right after gulping it down, he retold the story of Kaien Shiba. He held back on the gory details, especially when the color drained from Orihime’s face.

“Then you believed that Rukia was the one who killed him,” Ichigo remarked at the end of the tale.

“She admitted to it.” Ganju leaned forward and stared at the ground. “When she and other members of their squad brought him home. I never knew about the Hollow.”

Ichigo studied him with a steady gaze. “Do you still want revenge?” he asked, voice low. It was clear that if Ganju’s answer was yes, he was willing to fight him as well. All to keep Rukia safe.

“You have nothing to worry about,” he answered with a grin. “I have no intentions of stabbin’ ya in the back. Besides, it’s kinda hard to get revenge when the true killer is already dead.”

“Makes sense.” Ichigo finished off his food, licking the leftover rice off his thumb. He glanced around at the others. “I guess if we’re all finished, we should get goin’.”

“Where do you propose we go? Do you even know how to get us home?” Uryū asked him.

“Uh... I don’t have a clue.”

“Why am I _not_ surprised?” He pushed up his glasses.

Now that the question was out, Tamiko realized she hadn’t even thought about it. Her mind had been so consumed with despair, she believed they would never go home. But there had to be have been an escape plan.

“I think we should go find Yoruichi. She’d know. And Rukia, Abarai, and Yamada as well,” she said, picking herself up and brushing the dirt off her hakama. “If we leave them here, they’ll be in danger for helping us.”

Ichigo nodded as he rose with the help of Ganju’s shoulder. “You’re right about that. They’ll be imprisoned. Or worse, executed.”

“What about Squad Eleven? Kusajishi, Zaraki, Madarame, and Ayasegawa?” Orihime asked, wrinkling her brow.

“Those guys’ll be alright,” he assured with a half grin.

Tamiko emitted a weak laugh. “Something tells me they won’t be in as much danger as the others.”

“Judging by the state of their division, I think they’re expected to leave chaos in their wake,” Uryū said, heading for the stairs.

They were only a few steps into the dead forest when Tamiko froze. A familiar reiatsu. One that caused a tremor through her legs. She latched on to a lower branch to keep from falling over.

‘How?’ she wondered. ‘I thought he was...’

“Tamiko?” Orihime’s voice broke through, and she looked at everyone’s worried faces. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

Uryū approached Tamiko, uttering, “I figured you’d start feeling anxious the closer we’d get back to the stairs. Perhaps you should have Sado carry you again?”

“No, that isn’t it,” she whispered.

Chad stopped in his trek towards her. “Then what is it?” he asked.

The reiatsu trembled the air around them. Not only his, but four others. Two just as strong, while the others were smaller in comparison. Especially one in particular.

“Rukia,” Tamiko whispered.

Ichigo rushed by, Zanpakutō in hand. His teeth gritted and eyes narrowed into a glare. If he was still in any pain, it was disregarded in favor of protecting Rukia.

Against better judgment, Tamiko stumbled after him. Uryū was right beside her, catching her arm every time she tripped over a white root or her own feet. Everyone else was at their heels, not breathing a word.

They broke into the clearing and were greeted by a heart stopping scene.

Abarai clutched Rukia tightly in his arms. Shock covered his face as he regarded the three captains standing before him. It was no wonder, as he was staring directly at a dead man.

Aizen wore a gentle smile on his face. Very much alive.

_“Within the Soul Society, there is a particular captain. A mad genius. Stay far away from him.”_

She had suspected Aizen the moment she heard his chillingly calm voice, but disregarded it upon his death. And now she understood just how dangerous of an enemy he was.

The braided hair captain stood to his left, wearing a tightly wrapped bandage on his upper right arm. Gin Ichimaru stood to Aizen’s right, bearing his fox-like grin.

“Welcome, everyone,” Aizen said, turning his smile towards Tamiko. “How nice of you all to join us.”

Abarai glanced over his shoulder. “K-Kurosaki? Kimura and Ishida? And the others...”

“Ichigo! What are you guys doing here? Please, run back!” Rukia yelled.

“We should. He’s...” Tamiko whispered, and her chest ached with fear.

“What is it, Tamiko?” Ichigo asked without taking his eyes off of the group. “Do you know that guy?”

Uryū, while still holding her arm, uttered, “I think... he was the Captain who was murdered.”

“If so,” Chad’s voice rumbled, “how can he be standing there?”

“He faked his death.”

No sooner had the words left Tamiko’s lips that a confirmation in the form of a disembodied voice arrived. A young woman speaking in an urgent tone. “Captains, Lieutenants, and Ryoka within the Seireitei. I am Lieutenant Isane Kotetsu of Squad Four, under the authority of Captain Retsu Unohana. An emergency situation has occurred. Please, listen carefully. Everything I’m about to say is all true.”

Everyone transformed into statues. Not a single breath was drawn as the woman unraveled a tapestry of betrayal.

All in Central 46 were dead. Slaughtered by Sōsuke Aizen. Apparently the entire Seireitei has been under a hypnotic spell, allowing him to perfectly fake his death. Captains Gin Ichimaru of Squad Three and Kaname Tōsen of Squad Nine were working with him. The Lieutenant of Five and Captain of Ten were severely wounded by Aizen.

But why? Why orchestrate such a convoluted scheme? The only explanation was to ensure Rukia’s execution.

Uryū came to the same conclusion, “He did it so everyone believed he what he wanted was what the higher ups wanted. Think about it. Kuchiki’s execution date has been pushed forward again and again. What does that mean?”

“He wants Rukia dead.” Ichigo’s voice came from deep within his throat.

Except something about it felt hollow.

“If Central 46 had already sentenced her to die, why keep shoving it forward?” Tamiko mumbled, half talking to herself.

“It could be because of our actions,” Uryū suggested. “We certainly caused a mess by being separated and wounding several men.”

That sounded reasonable enough. But she wondered if that was truly the case. Considering most of the captains would have easily stopped the invasion the moment it started. Especially if ‘Central 46’ ordered it.

Nothing was what it seemed. Including the softness in Aizen’s gaze. He faced Abarai and Rukia. “I believe I gave you an order before we were interrupted,” he said with a step forward. “Put Rukia Kuchiki down and step aside.”

“I still refuse.” Abarai clutched Rukia tighter. Her face was as white as the bandages covering his arms and chest.

“So stubborn. Well, I suppose I can understand how you’re feeling. You can keep her in your arms. I’ll just have to remove them.” His reiatsu poured poured out. The air became so heavy it was like trying to breathe porridge.

All around Tamiko, everyone drew gasping breaths. Except Ichigo. He was gone in a flash, a burst of reiatsu. _Hohō._ His and Aizen’s blades met with a clang.

“Get out of here, Renji!” he roared.

“Ichigo!” Rukia cried.

Aizen retreated, taking a step back and holding his Zanpakutō in a defensive position. Ichigo landed between him and Abarai. His stance high and open, ready to launch a strike at moment’s notice.

“Are you crazy?” Abarai yelled at him. “Do you really think you can fight three captains all on your own?”

“Shut up and run!”

“I won’t. I’m going to stay and fight.” He gave Rukia a forlorn expression before turning towards the others; he let her go and pushed her at them. “Please, keep her safe.”

“Renji!” she exclaimed, stumbling into Tamiko’s and Uryū’s outstretched arms.

Abarai ignored her and drew out Zabimaru. He made the first move by crashing his blade into the ground. Several segments of his weapon shot out, straight at Aizen. Ichigo took advantage of the situation, launching himself into the fray. Working together. Would it be enough?

There was no other choice. Tamiko looked at her friends’ pale faces. None of them were fit to fight. The best thing they could do was get out of the way.

“Let’s go. It isn’t safe here,” she said.

Worried expressions looked beyond her. Everyone hesitating, unsure if whether to help or flee. The latter was silently agreed upon. They bolted, disappearing into the dense, white forest. Tamiko started to follow, but stopped when she noticed Rukia hadn’t moved.

Her mouth was open to keep yelling at Ichigo and Abarai, but not a sound came out. She trembled as if the ground was shaking beneath her feet.

Tamiko grasped her hand, and she looked at her with wide eyes. In a broken voice, she said, “We just... have to have faith in them.”

“Yeah.” Rukia took in a shuddering breath and forced a smile.

After forcing one of her own, Tamiko sprinted into the trees. Her hand never left Rukia’s.

She heard Aizen give an order, “After them, Gin. Kaname. Don’t let her get away.”

Ichimaru’s chuckling echoed through the trees. Tamiko and Rukia weaved through them. Without giving it a second thought, Tamiko buried her reiryoku deep. Hoping it would be enough to keep them from being detected among the dense, white trunks.

There was no sign of anyone else. Just the faint reiryoku of Chad, Orihime, and Ganju, so she knew they were still in the forest.

The breath caught in her throat, and Rukia gasped in her ears. She pulled her behind a thick tree, which they leaned against, chests heaving.

“Are they... following us?” Rukia rasped.

Tamiko closed her eyes. The captains’ signatures were flitting through the trees, likely heading for the stairs. Seemed they had expected them to escape rather than hide. “I think we’re okay for now. They’ve gone past us.”

A sigh of relief simultaneously escaped their mouths. Only a brief moment to catch their breath. It won’t take long for them to realize where they were.

“Why did you all come?” Rukia’s hushed voice was a blend of anger and fear. She had her mouth curled downward and fists clenched.

For Tamiko, there were three reasons. To see Machiko again. To keep Uryū out of trouble. To help save Rukia. The first one was impossible. It appeared she had failed the second. But the third was still up in the air, not having a clue as to where it was going to land.

“Because I wanted to.” Tamiko leaned her head back to stare at the bone-like branches.

“You wanted...”

She nodded and continued, “Ichigo had already risked his life once to save you, so we all knew he’d try again. I wanted to do everything I could to help. Not just for him. For you too.”

“ _You_ knew how dangerous it would be. So again, why?”

“It wasn’t fair for you to be put to death just for sacrificing your powers like that. Doesn’t matter what another person did in the past. They had no right to punish you for it.” Tamiko looked her directly in the eye.

Her anger melted away. A wan smile took its place. “Thank you, Tamiko.”

“Dear Rukia!” Ichimaru sang out, along with a reiatsu that sent skin to crawl. Rukia’s face turned gray, her eyes wide, and she gripped her hand tighter. “Come out, come out wherever you are! If not, we’ll find you. And your little friends too.”

Too late. They lingered for too long. His voice bounced from all directions, making it hard to detect exactly where it was coming from. And his pressure hung over the entire forest.

Tamiko couldn’t move. It was as if she had transformed into one of the ghostly trees. Rukia was demanding her to run, to leave her behind. Even if she had the ability to, she wouldn’t.

Nothing in the world could make her abandon a friend.

Something fell on top of Tamiko’s head, and she jerked up. A hand, attached to an arm leading up to a grinning face.

Ichimaru crouched on the branch above them, leaning over to ruffle their hair. “Found you,” he crowed and jumped down. His arm slithered around Rukia’s neck, yanking her hand from Tamiko’s. Rukia didn’t struggle. Her whole body went limp in his grasp.

“No. Let her go!” Tamiko lunged for them, but was caught by a pair of muscular, brown arms. They were smaller and a darker shade than Chad’s. She thrashed against Tōsen, but his grip only tightened, threatening to strangle her.

“The time for fighting is over,” he intoned, and she glanced at him. His closed eyes were set underneath a pair of clear googles. Yet, he was looking directly at her. “You will no longer interfere with our plans for justice.”

She unleashed her reiatsu, but it paled in comparison to the two titans. Tears exploded from her eyes. “You call this justice? Forcing an execution? Charging someone with an absurd crime will _never_ be justice!”

“This is a necessary step on the path. You, a ryoka, could never understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You’re taking orders from a man who slaughtered 46 people. Just so he can kill one Soul Reaper. Why?”

Ichimaru’s chilling voice answered her, “Because dear little Rukia here has something we want.”

“T-that can’t be,” Rukia choked, wincing as his arm pressed her neck tighter. “I... don’t have anything.”

“Oh, but you do. Something precious,” he purred.

His free hand shot towards her chest. Just before he could touch her, a crashing resonated through the forest. Instead, his hand took a detour to the Zanpakutō strapped to his waist.

Chad barreled towards them, trees turning to dust at his punch. No amount of screaming for him to get away could deter him. He swung an armored fist right at Ichimaru’s head.

“Shoot to kill, Shinsō.”

The blade he drew glowed a hot white. It shot straight into Chad’s forearm. The armor disintegrated. He thudded to the ground, blood pouring from the wound.

It all happened so fast, and yet, so slowly at the same time. Tamiko wailed, once again thrashing to get free. “No. C-Chad...”

Rukia stared, like a deer in headlights, at his body. The only sound she made was a gasping sob.

“Aww, what a shame,” Ichimaru said, sheathing the blood stained blade. “He went down without me breaking so much as a sweat. How boring.”

“Tamiko!” Uryū’s voice, while faint, reached her ears. He was nowhere near them, and she willed him to stay that way.

Ichimaru chuckled at the sound. “Don’t think for a moment that anyone will be able to save you now, dear Rukia. That ryoka and Abarai should have already fallen to Aizen’s blade.”

A pair of tears trickled down Rukia’s ashen cheeks. She trembled within his grasp.

Tamiko hung her head, clenching her eyes shut. He was right. Ichigo’s and Abarai’s pressures had weakened. So faint they could be _dying_.

Another blood-chilling chuckle came from Ichimaru.

“We should return,” Tōsen stated, dropping Tamiko like a sack of potatoes.

By the time she opened her eyes, they were gone. It was over.

Numb. She was numb to the sense of despair. Her fingers dug into the dirt, using the solid ground to push herself up. To reach Chad.

A breath escaped when she discovered him still breathing. Seemed his arm had protected his abdomen from the blade, as only a slit had been sliced through the uniform. She removed her kosode and bound his arm to stem the flow of blood.

The only thing she could do.

Yet again, Uryū cried out her name. His voice was louder. And then he was beside her, staring wide-eyed at Chad. “What happened here? Did you get hurt? Where’s Kuchiki?”

He couldn’t sense them. The only thing that had drawn him was her screaming.

“They took her. Ichimaru and Tōsen,” she whispered hoarsely. “Said that she had something they wanted. That it was precious.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

As soon as she heard the words, she knew something was amiss. She didn’t know how. Or even why. Her chest fluttered, as if a dozen butterflies were flying inside it.

Ever since Machiko’s death, there was something she couldn’t remember. One memory that never returned. It eluded her time and time again with each nightmare she awoke from, drenched in sweat and heart pounding. Somehow, it was connected to Rukia’s execution.

She needed to know why.

So Tamiko rose and stepped around Chad. Ignoring the questions of her friends behind her. When did Orihime and Ganju join them? It didn’t matter. Her feet couldn’t be stopped.

Back in the clearing, Aizen held Rukia in his grasp. At his feet were Ichigo and Abarai, blood pooling beneath them. Fresh tears ran freely down Tamiko’s face. She stilled just inside the tree line.

Arriving just in time to hear Aizen say, “Your mission is over.”

He must be talking to Ichigo, as he responded with a gasping, “M-mission?”

“Aren’t you Kisuke Urahara’s subordinate?” Aizen inquired. “Didn’t he send you to take back Rukia Kuchiki?”

“What in t-the hell...”

At the sound of Urahara’s name, the fluttering transitioned to a whirlwind. The storm took her breath away. She found herself leaning against something warm and firm.

Uryū. His arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady. Behind them were Orihime and Ganju. They had followed and transfixed on the scene before them.

Aizen looked upon Ichigo with pity. “You really don’t know. That’s fine. Since you’ve failed, I’ll tell you,” he said with a reassuring grin. “There are four forms of combat for a Soul Reaper. Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō. It takes some time to master each, but once you do, growth stops completely. That is a Soul Reaper’s limit, their glaring weakness.”

Zanjutsu, the use of a Zanpakutō. Yoruichi had gone over each technique briefly, enough for them to know how to defend or flee from them. She had warned that it would be the captains who were likely to be proficient in each. Why it had been vital from them not to face one in combat.

The very opposite of a weakness. What could he be getting at?

He held up a finger and continued, “There is one way to break that boundary. Hollowfication.”

Tamiko drew a sharp breath. Uryū’s hold tightened, but he didn’t look away from Aizen. Ganju and Orihime shifted, mumbling their confusion.

A look of shock crossed over Ichigo’s face. “What... are you talking about?”

“You should know,” Aizen replied, sounding like a disappointed school teacher. “Hollowfication is the process in which a soul transitions from a Whole into a Hollow. I believe you’ve experienced it first hand.”

Ichigo trembled at his words. Tamiko knew that he wasn’t talking about the bound soul at the abandoned hospital. But what happened earlier during the fight with Kuchiki.

Aizen moved away from Ichigo, turning his back on Tamiko and her friends. “The concept for Soul Reapers to undergo Hollowfication has existed in theory for a long time. I experimented with creating Hollows that were close to their abilities. Ones that could hide their reiatsu. Those that can utilize hohō. And even fuse with Soul Reapers.”

Experiments. On Hollows. Two in particular came to mind. The one that killed Machiko. She hadn’t been able to sense it. Tamiko could, but only briefly. And the second one...

Rukia gasped when it dawned on her.

Ganju took deep breaths. A growl resonated deep within his chest. “You’re the one responsible!” he roared.

Uryū pulled Tamiko out of the way just in time for him to blaze past. Ganju raised his fist against Aizen. Reiatsu tore through the air. His knuckles stopped just short of his nose. And Ganju hit the ground, out cold.

“Just a failed experiment,” Aizen said to his crumpled body. “All of them were complete trash, not worthy of being considered breakthroughs. Not like what happened 90 years ago. It was Kisuke Urahara who created an object that reacts beyond the conventional physics of the Soul Society. Only it can dissolve the barrier between Hollows and Soul Reapers. It’s name is the Hōgyoku.”

That name. Pain erupted through her chest. Tamiko clutched at it, leaning heavier on Uryū. He was saying something, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her entire being was focused on Aizen.

“His experiment with the Hōgyoku resulted in the Hollowfication of eight Soul Reapers,” he resumed. “They were swiftly dealt with, and Urahara was to lose his powers and be exiled to the World of the Living. He managed to escape, taking the object with him.”

“I don’t... understand,” Rukia mumbled. Her face was as white as her clothing, eyes large and round. “What does it have to do with me?”

Aizen answered, “It is incredibly powerful. He wanted to keep it to himself, so he chose to hide it. One thing Urahara was famous for was fusing things to a person’s soul. The soul he chose was yours, Rukia.”

“That can’t be...”

She was right.

Everyone and everything faded around Tamiko. She was no longer at the edge of a dead forest, but in a brightly lit room strapped to a table. A few feet away was a man with his back to her and head bowed. He was wearing surgical scrubs and leaning over a tray littered with medical equipment.

The pain was unbearable. She tried to make a sound, but it took every ounce of strength just to breathe.

Strands of sandy colored hair were revealed as the man lifted his head. He almost couldn’t be recognized without his bucket hat and green haori. Kisuke Urahara turned towards her, a small orb nestled in the palm of his hand. It glowed a bluish-purple despite the harsh operating lights shining upon it.

Aizen took his place as the memory flitted away. He looked down at Rukia, telling her, “A gigai is made up of dense reiryoku, meant to help a recovering Soul Reaper. It should be easy for the Soul Society to track the person inhabiting one. Another one of Urahara’s creations was the untraceable gigai. When you disappeared, I knew exactly why.”

No. That was wrong.

She pushed away from Uryū and walked forward.

“Tamiko! What are you doing?” he called after.

He and Orihime swarmed her. His hand snatched hers, and Orihime’s arms wrapped around her stomach.

“Please, don’t try to fight him,” she said, voice breaking with desperation.

“Don’t be... stupid, Tamiko,” Ichigo gasped out.

Rukia screamed, “No! Stay away!”

“I have to do this,” Tamiko answered them. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Actually, it’s rather simple,” Aizen said, holding Rukia up higher. “Urahara used Rukia here as a decoy, meant to distract me. Now I see the truth.” He released his fingers from her collar, and she fell into a heap on the ground.

Ichigo shook his head. “But didn’t you just say...” He trailed off into a gasp.

“You probably shouldn’t talk. It’ll only end your life faster.”

Tamiko squirmed out of Orihime’s arms and pulled her hand away from Uryū. Aizen was right about one thing. If this didn’t end soon, Ichigo would die. How he could still be conscious was nothing short of a miracle.

And his earlier Hollowfication. Was that because of the Hōgyoku? If so, she wanted _nothing_ to do with it. She had zero desire to Hollowfy anyone, let alone her friends. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

What else was she supposed to do? Let Aizen kill Rukia for something she didn’t have? But to give him that power...

There was no other choice. It was something _she had_ to do.

She resumed her journey, but her friends grabbed hold once again.

“I won’t let you,” Uryū hissed in her ear. “There has to be another way.”

“Please.” Orihime’s plea was barely audible.

Aizen drew closer. His reiatsu bared down on them, and they braced against it. “You should let her. She has made the correct choice by giving herself up,” he said, but they didn’t move. “Just as stubborn as your friends. Don’t you see what I have done to them? They at least had the capacity to fight.”

Uryū emitted a low growl deep within his throat. The pins on Orihime’s hair glittered with reiryoku, but none of the Shun Shun Rikka came out. Hesitating in the face an intimidating foe.

A large shadow encased them all. The giant wolf in a shihakusho and haori crashed down directly behind Aizen, howling out his name. Tamiko, Uryū, and Orihime scurried away from the Zanpakutō swinging down on him.

He stopped it with his bare hand. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face,” he said as if making small talk. “Did you have a change of heart, Komamura?”

“How _dare you_ talk as if you haven’t done anything wrong. For your betrayal, I shall show no mercy!” The wolf tore his blade out of his hand and turned to Tōsen, who had been on the sidelines, likely waiting for an order from Aizen. Komamura began talking to him.

But Tamiko didn’t catch a word. She was too busy wriggling to get free of Uryū and Orihime. They were taking advantage of the distraction to drag her back towards the trees.

“It’s not going to do any good,” she argued. “They’ll just come after us again. And they’ll hurt you. Like Chad. Ichigo. Abarai. Ganju. And now him.”

Komamura fell, blood spurting from multiple wounds created by some kind of kidō spell. Not even another captain could stand up to him. Tamiko sobbed into Orihime’s shoulder, knowing nothing was going to stop Aizen until he achieved his goal.

“Please, let me go. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Friend or foe.”

Orihime cried as well, her shoulders trembling.

Uryū let out a shuddering breath. His hand tightened on Tamiko’s before letting go. “Tamiko, you...” The words lodged in his throat, and he swallowed. He turned away from her, a glare hiding his eyes. “Why _can’t you_ be selfish for a change?”

Tamiko stepped into his line of sight, trying to give him a smile. But only more tears came. She threw her arms around him, wishing for one last whiff of his reiatsu. She released him, and he turned his back on her completely, fiddling with his glasses.

It was Orihime who wrapped her into a hug. “I’ll go look after Ichigo and the others,” she whispered, “so don’t worry about them. Tamiko...” Her voice broke too much for her to finish.

All too soon, they pulled away. Tamiko took one last look at them, the trees where Chad laid, Ganju, Ichigo, and Abarai. Her gaze landed on Rukia. She had pushed herself closer to him and Ichigo; she stared back, eyes wide and damp from tears that refused to fall.

Tamiko silently bade them farewell. Sorry that she couldn’t keep her promise to Machiko.

But she wasn’t scared. The fluttering in her chest had stopped. It felt heavy with everyone she was leaving behind, but also with purpose. Finally, she could do something. Save the lives of those she cared for.

She didn’t look back. Only forward, at Aizen.

He held out his hand to her, as if beckoning a small child. She froze, staring at it and his smiling face. His hand moved to ruffle the hair on top of her head, and she glared at him in return.

“Just get it over with quickly,” she said, surprised at the steadiness in her voice. Tears burst out. “I don’t want them to suffer any further.”

“Of course. It’s natural for you to consider their feelings in such a situation. I assure you, it’ll be painless. First, why don’t you tell me your name? You already know who I am. It’s only fair to give me the same honor.”

“It’s Tamiko Kimura. I’m a ryoka from the World of the Living.”

Aizen’s eyes softened further, sending chills down her spine. “A lovely name,” he said, reaching into his shihakusho. “There was always a possibility of things not going as planned, so I dug further into Urahara’s research for another way to extract something from a person’s soul.”

A metal object no bigger than a cigarette was pulled out. He brought it forward for Tamiko to get a good look at it. There was small button on one end.

“The Sōkyoku is one method,” he continued, “as it completely evaporates the outer shell of a soul. Since that has been rendered useless, the second method will suffice. A special procedure, performed with this device.”

Upon pressing the button, the object unraveled and wrapped around his right hand, transforming it into a sharp claw. With the gentle smile still on his face, he thrust the claw straight into her chest. The cries of her friends arose with her body, lifting up and looking down at Aizen.

It was painless. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t scream.

Aizen removed his hand, bringing out the glowing sphere. She hit the ground, staring up at the white fluffy clouds drifting by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while, but it's finally out! Reaching Out's final climax. Only a few loose ends to tie together before this part can reach its conclusion. I'm excited to work through them. Stay tuned for the last arc of this story.


	22. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprised to find herself alive, Tamiko comes to a horrifying realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by TheWinterComet.
> 
> If you wish to support me and this series, please consider giving me a follow on social media! I post updates and teasers of upcoming chapters as well as anything else that comes to mind.
> 
> Twitter: @ShonnaRoseS  
> Ko-Fi: ShonnaRose (I also have open commissions!)

There wasn’t any blood, not a single drop. Yet, Aizen had speared her straight through the chest. What he saw couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare. Any second, he would awaken in a cold sweat in his bed back home.

He had no idea what possessed him to turn around. There was _nothing_ he could do to save her. All he could do was watch, his heart shattered and stomach in his throat.

Only a moment ago, she was hugging him and Inoue. He still felt the warmth from her tight hold.

Aizen tore his clawed hand from her. It should have ripped through bone and sinew, tearing out her life. Except it was free of gore. The only change was that he clutched a glowing, spherical object. He dropped her, and she landed on her back, wide-eyed and staring at the sky.

Uryū stopped breathing, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The hole in her chest was dark and empty, centered like a Hollow’s.

It closed.

The shitagi she wore became whole. Its fabric was pure white, not bearing so much as a smudge of dirt. Her fingers twitched and eyes darted.

 _She was alive._ His lungs filled with air again.

“Oh, are you unharmed?” Aizen asked Tamiko as he stowed the object into his uniform. He bent down and picked her up by the wrist. She hung limply in his hold, unable to offer a resistance. “Urahara’s technology is incredible. Unfortunately, your usefulness has come to an end. Kill her, Gin.”

Ichimaru answered with a chuckle. His hand latched onto the hilt of his sword.

A gale kicked up. It sped through the clearing ripping through clothes and hair. Uryū slammed against a tree, groaning as pain pulsed from the wound on his back. His glasses were nearly ripped off. They dangled from one ear, blurring his vision. While he adjusted them, the wind died.

The heart in his chest came to a complete stop. He knew what he was about to see through clear eyes: Tamiko stabbed through the heart.

She wasn’t there. Aizen’s hand hung empty in the air. Ichimaru hadn’t drawn his blade. Neither one had moved, but their faces bore knowing grins.

Where was Tamiko? Uryū’s gaze darted over the clearing. There were Kurosaki, Abarai, and Kuchiki. Inoue had joined them, hands hovering near her hairpins. Shiba was sitting up a few feet away, and Sado had regained consciousness and was leaning heavily against a tree. Tamiko wasn’t with any of them.

At the edge of the clearing was a figure. A tall woman with purple hair pulled back in a ponytail. She clutched a trembling Tamiko with her face pressed against her bosom. The woman wasn’t wearing a haori or even a shihakusho. Instead, she wore a black sleeveless top and stretch pants.

Aizen turned towards her, but as he stepped forward, another woman appeared wearing a similar outfit. She held a Zanpakutō to his neck. “Don’t you _dare_ move another muscle,” she growled.

“I see.” He only gave her a side glance before addressing the first woman. “Here I thought Komamura’s face was a surprise. Who would have expected to see you, Yoruichi Shihōin?”

“What did he say...?” Uryū mumbled to himself. Yoruichi was a cat, albeit a talking one. That woman couldn’t be her. It defied all logic.

Then again, he witnessed his friend being stabbed through the chest and survived--not to mention an anthropomorphic wolf swinging around a Zanpakutō. Clearly, the rules of the living did not apply to those of the dead.

“You certainly haven’t changed much,” the woman spoke, undeniably, in the cat’s voice. “Aside from your promotion.”

Those words brought a smile to Aizen’s face. “That shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. There were several vacancies within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads when you vanished off the face of the earth.” Her eyes glowed with malice in response. “Gin. Kaname. Dispose of--”

Several Soul Reapers flashed into the clearing, cutting off his order. Uryū pressed harder against the tree at the sight of haoris and lieutenant badges. None of them seemed to notice him and the others, though. They had Aizen, Ichimaru, and Tōsen completely surrounded.

A woman with long, blonde hair snatched Ichimaru’s wrist and put her Zanpakutō to his throat. Tōsen was in a similar situation, but with a scarred, tattooed faced lieutenant.

The only ones Uryū recognized were Kyōraku--his floral kimono draped over his shoulders--and Ukitake, the captain who had visited him and the others. Opposite of them was a man with skin as wrinkled as tree bark, leaning on a wooden cane. At his side was a man wearing a jinbaori over his uniform.

Everyone glared at Aizen. Those who hadn’t already drawn a Zanpakutō had their hands on sword hilts. They were ready to strike the instant any of the traitors raised so much as a finger.

Despite the mounting odds, Aizen chuckled. His shoulders shook, and he leaned his head back.

Tamiko stirred, turning to gaze out at the scene. Her eyes were as round as the sun in the sky. She had to be terrified.

The woman--Yoruichi--shifted her arm into a protective position over her. “It’s finished, Aizen. We have you trapped. Now isn’t the time to be laughing.”

“Oh, but it is,” Aizen replied, smiling at the sky. “The timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

Yoruichi followed his gaze, and the malice in her eyes transformed into shock. Her head snapped towards the woman holding a blade against Aizen. “Get away from him, Suì-Fēng!”

A bright light shot down. The woman leaped out of the way just before it enveloped Aizen. Two more beams followed, and the lieutenants released their captives to escape being ensnared within them.

Uryū mimicked the crowd, lifting his eyes upward. The breath caught in his chest at the sight.

Sharp fingernails jutted out of the blue sky. A pair of giant hands tore open a hole, revealing dozens of masked faces. Their eyes glowed and peered down on them, a horde of Menos Grande.

Voices shot up at them, expressing their shock and horror. They blended together into a deafening roar as the three captains rose into the air. Were the Menos helping them to escape?

“Kaname!” Komamura’s voice bellowed above all others. He was stumbling to his feet with a lieutenant in sunglasses close to his side. “Explain to me! Didn’t you become a Soul Reaper for your deceased friend? You did it to carry out justice! So where is it now?”

Tōsen uttered a reply far too quietly for Uryū to hear. Komamura could. His snout scrunched tight into a snarl, and he let out an ear-piercing howl.

As it died away, Ukitake sprinted to Aizen’s beam of light. “What are you... planning to do?” he asked him.

“To go higher,” he replied, removing his glasses. He crushed them to dust. “The throne of god is empty. I shall sit upon it.”

“You’ve gone mad.”

Aizen ran his fingers through his hair. The gentle mask he wore fell away, replaced by something far more sinister. He climbed ever higher, looking down upon them all. “Farewell. Kurosaki, you’re interesting for a human. Kimura. Thank you, and may we meet again in the future.”

He, Ichimaru, and Tōsen disappeared among the Hollows. The sky closed behind them, becoming a bright blue once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How could she still be alive? She should have died when Aizen took the Hōgyoku from her, and yet, she still breathed. It was impossible. There was nothing inside her chest.

Vaguely, she knew Aizen had picked her up and ordered Ichimaru to kill what was left of her. _That_ should have been her death, but it never came. Instead a strong wind pulled her away and into the arms of an unknown woman.

“You’re going to be okay, Tamiko,” she whispered, voice sounding like Yoruichi.

Wasn’t Yoruichi a cat? Soft, short black fur. Pink paw pads and nose. Long whiskers. And golden yellow eyes. Exactly like the ones the woman cast down on her, wearing a concerned expression.

Her reiryoku was strong, comforting, and she was so warm. Even still, Tamiko couldn’t stop shaking. She pressed her arms against the woman’s back. Clinging to her like a small child.

For a moment, she peeked out at the captains and lieutenants who surrounded Aizen and his cohorts. Long enough to watch them ascend into the holes created by an army of Menos and to hear Aizen’s farewell.

The only response she had was to go back into hiding. She didn’t want to let go and face the multitude of people who should still be their enemies. They had invaded the Seireitei and wounded several officers. There were going to be repercussions as soon as the shock wore off.

Movement. She was being carried. As to where, she had no idea. Just as long as she didn’t have to leave the woman’s protection.

“Tamiko!” The voices of her friends drew her back out.

Orihime, Ganju, Rukia, and even Chad were clustered on the ground together. Only Uryū stood apart from them. He sprinted to meet her and Yoruichi, faltering on the last couple of steps.

“Are you... alright, Tamiko?” he panted. His worried eyes swept over her and hovered where the hole in her chest should be.

Her mouth formed a response, but all that came out where a couple of shuddering whimpers. She drew in a breath and muttered, “I-I don’t know.”

He furrowed his brows and looked to Yoruichi for an answer.

“She hasn’t sustained any new injuries,” she replied, raising her voice so the others could hear. “Physically, at least.”

The trek to the group resumed with Uryū by their side. When Yoruichi crouched to set Tamiko down, her arms turned into iron locks. She pressed her face against her collar bone. “Please... no.”

“You’re going to be fine, Tamiko. I have important business I need to take care of, but I won’t be gone long.” Her voice was soft and gentle like a cat’s purr. It was enough to dislodge her arms.

Tamiko was passed over to Chad, who opened a single arm for her. The other pressed tightly against his side, still wrapped tightly with her kosode. He had to be in so much pain.

She reached and touched his face, lightly brushing away a bead of sweat. His brown eyes stared softly at her, and he rubbed the center of her back.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Thanks to you.”

Because she had bound his wound. If she hadn’t, he’d be bleeding out. Although, something... nagged at her. She tore her eyes away and found Ganju right beside them.

When he caught her looking, he forced a half smile and gave a thumbs up. “Glad you’re still with us, Tamiko,” he said. “My big sis was right. Ya sure got some courage.”

The word rolled around in her brain. She didn’t feel brave relying on comfort from a friend far more injured than she was. Although, she supposed sacrificing herself to Aizen could be considered courageous.

A groan rose up. Tamiko turned towards it. At Ichigo. He and Abarai were laid out on the ground, in pools of blood. They looked... _dead_. Their faces pale and bodies rigid.

Just as a cry started up her throat, their chests rose and fell. They were unconscious, but alive. That was when she noticed the large oval spread over them.

Orihime cast a wan smile over it before her focus returned to them. “They’ll... be alright soon.” Her voice was barely audible, tinged with exhaustion. She and the fairies were hard at work repairing their wounds.

Their _fatal_ wounds. Ones sustained trying to protect Rukia from Aizen, to defend something she didn’t have.

Tamiko had it all along. If only she had remembered it sooner, she could have given herself up to Aizen on their first encounter. He’d have what he wanted, and so much blood shed would have been avoided.

Her brows furrowed together. No. That wasn’t right. How could she have known then what he had planned? The knowledge of it didn’t hit her until she saw him alive and well, when she knew he had faked his death.

Enacted with the help of hypnosis. According to the announcement, he had the entire Seireitei under a spell. His Zanpakutō...

The world tilted. She had seen it, carried like a corpse. Because it _was_ a corpse to those who bore it. At the time, she wrote it off as a mourning ritual for Soul Reapers. Now she saw how strange it was. She should have realized the truth and acted upon it. How, she wasn’t sure, but she could have _done_ something, _said_ something.

For soon after, Aizen slaughtered Central 46 in order to seal Rukia’s fate.

Those deaths, their blood, was on her hands. Tamiko had no love for nobles who cared less about the souls in their care, but they were still people. People with lives, with families, and they were murdered in cold blood all for one person to gain power.

Everything spun out of control. A scream tore out of her throat. It reverberated for an eternity before she seeped into nothingness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The warmth of a bed. Antiseptic burning her nose. A prick in her arm from an IV line. Tamiko awoke knowing she was in a hospital. That was wrong. Shouldn’t she be back in a jail cell?

She laid in a room with a large window. Through it was a courtyard filled with greenery and chirping birds. Daylight streamed in, indicating neither mid morning or afternoon. A bird flitted from branch to branch of a nearby tree.

As she watched it, everything came back to her. Ichigo’s and Abarai’s wounds. The taking of the Hōgyoku. Then the realization that everything was her fault.

‘Why didn’t Urahara just tell me about it?’ she wondered. ‘He should’ve known Aizen would figure it out. If he wanted to keep that power so badly, he could have locked me away somewhere. That way no one else would have gotten hurt.’ She curled in on herself, tears streaming onto the pillow.

Silently, she sobbed until there was nothing left. Just the emptiness within her chest. Her heart was gone. Did that mean she was a Hollow now?

A soft rapping made itself known. It pulled her up from the pillow to stare at the door, unable to comprehend how it made such a noise. Beyond, there were two pressures. One small, but determined. The other strong and intimidating.

The door came open. A woman in a haori stepped through. Her long, black hair was gathered into a braid at her neck and draped down to her stomach. She wasn’t wielding a Zanpakutō, but Tamiko recoiled as she drew closer to the bed.

At her heels was Hanatarō Yamada. He carried a tray with bandages and the basic equipment necessary to assess one’s vital signs: a glass thermometer, blood pressure cuff, and stethoscope.

“Good afternoon. Allow me to introduce myself,” the woman spoke softly with a bow. “I am Retsu Unohana, the Captain of Squad Four. I believe you’re already acquainted with Seventh Seat Yamada.”

When she gestured to him, he bowed. The thermometer rolled on the tray, and he hastily straightened to keep it from falling off. Unohana swept her hand towards the table, and he set the tray on it. All the while stammering, “H-hello, Kimura. We’ve been checking in on everyone, and you’re our last stop.”

He was smiling. Even through the stammer, his voice had a slight upbeat tone. Tamiko stared at the bangs hanging over his forehead.

“There’s no need to fear. Your friends will make complete recoveries. It was thanks to the girl, Inoue. Without her power, Lieutenant Abarai and Substitute Soul Reaper Kurosaki wouldn’t have survived.” Unohana smiled as if her words should bring great comfort to Tamiko. They didn’t. All they did was confirm what she already thought.

Ichigo and Abarai would not have sustained those wounds if she had noticed Aizen’s spell sooner.

The smile left Unohana’s face in favor of a professional expression. She continued, “Yamada and the squad member who treated you in Squad Six have informed me of your condition. I’d like to have a look at the wound on your abdomen, if you’re comfortable with that.”

While her tone of voice was gentle, her pressure seeped out. Looming over Tamiko. Like with Dr. Ishida, she knew Captain Unohana wasn’t to be trifled with. She complied, shifting to lay on her back.

Unohana removed the bandages and examined the wound in silence. Once she was satisfied, she took the bandages from the tray.

“It’s healing well, despite yesterday’s events. Kurotsuchi’s Zanpakutō damaged the muscles, but a few more rounds of kaidō should do the trick,” she informed. “Tell me. Are you having any pain at all?”

Tamiko watched the braid sway like a pendulum while she tied the sash of her yukata. Pain? No, there wasn’t any. She turned to stare out the window, disappointed the bird was gone, having long flown away. Sighing, she longed for it to come back. When it didn’t, she flopped her head against the pillow.

Then she looked towards Unohana and Yamada and straightened. When did they get there? How? She gripped the blanket a moment and slowly released it. Oh, they hadn’t left yet.

Yamada no longer smiled. He nibbled on his bottom lip, watching her closely. When their eyes met, he approached the bed and took her hand. His thumb massaged her knuckles.

Unohana merely nodded, lifting the glass thermometer from the tray. “I’m just going to check your vitals now. If there’s anything bothering you, feel free to bring it up.” She slipped the device between Tamiko’s lips and looked at Yamada. “Why don’t you tell her about the others? Help give her some peace of mind.”

“Y-yes, ma’am. Ichigo and Lieutenant Abarai are out of critical condition,” he started, the smile returning to his face. “They were both in surgery all night to assess every injury. It... it really would have been a lot worse if it hadn’t been for Inoue’s healing power. They’re still undergoing blood transfusions, but they should be fully healed in a little over a week.”

Good news. Tamiko knew from his smile, but no surge of relief went through her. She furrowed her brows and looked at the ceiling.

Yamada continued, “You’re probably wondering about Sado. He took an attack from Captain--former Captain--Ichimaru’s Zanpakutō. A-aside from some muscle damage, he’s fine. He would have lost a lot more blood, if you hadn’t wrapped his arm when you did.”

That was the _only_ good thing she had done. Except he wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place if it hadn’t been for her.

The thermometer was removed, and Unohana moved on to checking her blood pressure.

“Oh, and Ganju’s alright,” Yamada said after the cuff was removed. “His wounds from Captain Kuchiki are healing well, and he didn’t suffer any permanent damage from former Captain Aizen’s reiatsu.”

The Shiba family. Kukaku and Ganju lost their brother because of Aizen’s experimentation. One thing that Tamiko wasn’t guilty of, but could she have prevented Ganju’s anguish?

“Inoue didn’t suffer any injuries, but she exhausted herself trying to heal two people at once. We’ve got her on bed rest for the next couple of days.”

Orihime never should have been subjected to any of this. Her sweet, overly imaginative friend who would never hurt a fly. She’s been forced to witness so much bloodshed and nearly lost her friends.

Tamiko closed her eyes, wishing to go back and change everything. Unfortunately, she remained in the bed with Yamada clutching her hand. Unohana pressed the stethoscope to her chest, softly requesting for her to breathe deeply.

Yamada resumed, his voice lowering slightly, “We’re not sure about Ishida. Physically, his wounds are alright, but his blood pressure is really low. He tells us that’s normal, but he isn’t eating much. We’ve got him on fluids. Oh, and his reiryoku hasn’t changed.”

And it wasn’t going to. Whatever Uryū did to gain that reishi wing had had an effect on him. That fight wouldn’t have happened at all if she had given herself up to Aizen the day before. Uryū would still have his powers.

Unohana removed the stethoscope. It clinked back into the tray. Her hands hovered over Tamiko while Yamada concluded, “Rukia’s weak as well. Sekkiseki drains a person’s reiryoku to its lowest level. It’s going to take her a while to regain her strength.”

What would have happened to Rukia if Aizen had revealed himself sooner? Central 46 had already sentenced her to be executed for giving her powers to Ichigo. At least, it would have been pushed back until everything was sorted out.

‘That’s probably the case now,’ Tamiko realized, pulling her hand out of Yamada’s and turning away from him. ‘Then I didn’t save her after all.’

“Y-you shouldn’t worry,” he blurted out as if reading her mind. “In light of what’s happened, the Head Captain has pardoned Rukia. He’s still undecided about what to do with you and the others, but... Rukia isn’t going to be executed!”

Under normal circumstances, those worlds would have cheered her up. They revealed their success. Rukia was safe. Every idea of her execution had been expunged, as Uryū had put it.

They won.

“I am concerned about your high blood pressure and state of mind,” Unohana was saying, “but everything else is normal. You’re to rest. Before I go, do you have any questions or concerns?”

Why didn’t she feel happy? Everyone was alive. They were admitted into the hospital rather than locked up in jail, their wounds cared for. It was a victory, but all she felt was exhausted.

She pulled the covers over her head, curling back into herself.

“We should leave her to rest now, Yamada,” Unohana said, and their pressures emptied the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a large, circular room, and she stood in the very center. High platforms rose around her, each bearing a different person. Forty-six people loomed over her, their faces scrunched tight in judgment.

Tamiko knew what was coming. There was no denying her guilt. She and her friends had invaded the Seireitei, injured so many people. All to save a convicted criminal sentenced to death. Reasons didn’t matter. They had to uphold their laws in order to maintain the balance between the worlds.

She hung her head, awaiting their decision.

A horrible gurgling reached her ears. She snapped up and watched one of the officials slump to the floor, blood spraying from a gash in his throat.

Out of the corner of her eye, a Zanpakutō flashed. Someone screamed, and blood splattered the floor before a head rolled to a stop at Tamiko’s feet. She leaped away from it. Away from the eyes staring up at her, still wide with horror.

More blood, more screams. One by one, 46 people were slashed down, drowning her in red. Aizen, blade dripping, stepped up beside her with his gentle smile.

“Kimura,” he said and ruffled her hair with his free hand. “Thank you.”

Tamiko blinked open her eyes. The entire bed shook from her trembling. Her heart raced at the dampness sticking her clothing to her skin. Body odor hit her nostrils instead of blood, and she let out a breath. A nightmare. A _horrifying, stomach churning nightmare,_ one that continued to play in her mind.

Outside, dark clouds obscured the sun. Distant thunder rumbled, taking the place of sweet birdsong. An oncoming storm. She couldn’t recall any rain since the invasion began.

The soft knocking preceded Yamada. He carefully tread across the room to keep from jostling the tray of dishes he carried. A meager dinner of miso soup, rice, some kind of fish, and green sprouts.

She pushed herself on her elbows. With the nightmare still fresh in her memory, she shouldn’t want anything to do with food, but the emptiness inside her begged to be filled. As soon as he set the tray down, she picked up the chopsticks and tugged off a piece of fish.

“That’s g-good,” he stammered after she had taken several bites of everything. “That you have an appetite. Although, make sure to take it easy. You haven’t had much lately.”

While she ate, he informed her of everyone’s conditions. Ichigo had woken up from his surgery, asking about her and the others. He tried to get up to find everyone, but immediately collapsed, still too weak from blood loss.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one. The moment Abarai woke up, he managed to get into Rukia’s room. She had yelled at him, her voice flying through the hospital. Tamiko hadn’t heard anything, but she remembered it like she had.

There weren’t any changes with Chad, Ganju, Orihime, or Uryū. They were resting comfortably without much argument. Except for Uryū, who kept insisting he was fine. Tamiko supposed she should feel happy her friends were doing so well, but all she did was stare out the window at the ever darkening sky.

Several hours later, after Yamada had taken her empty dishes, the rain pounded against the glass. Nothing could be seen in the darkness, and so no birds to keep her company. She carefully removed the IV tube from the port in the crock of her elbow. Her bare feet landed against the cold, hard floor, and she made her way out into the empty corridor.

All of her neighbors had their doors closed. Behind them, she faintly made out the signatures of her friends. All peaceful, all sleeping. She couldn’t imagine bothering them. Not after everything she had put them through.

Stepping away, she set off to find someone else. Someone who said she wouldn’t be gone long. It’s been well over 24 hours, so where was she?

Tamiko traversed the hallways, seeking out that comforting reiryoku. Naturally, she avoided paths containing unfamiliar energy. Turning every corner and even climbing up a set of stairs. Most of the doors she came across were shut. Only a few were wide open to rooms devoid of patients. Until she came across one that was slightly ajar, and she peered through it.

Inside wasn’t who she was looking for. It was a dog, but not just any dog. A giant one. Wearing a white yukata and laying upon an extra large hospital bed. Tamiko lightly tapped at the door until it was open enough for her to slip inside.

Walking on her toes, she crept up to the sleeping animal. Her fingers inched towards their snout and brushed against the rough surface. Dry.

Golden yellow eyes popped open and looked directly at her. She tore her hand away, clutching it to her chest. The dog’s ears drooped and eyes turned to the floor.

“You’re afraid of me,” he spoke.

The voice was familiar. It was far quieter and sadder than the last time she had heard it, so full of anguish. Where did she hear it? When? After a moment of staring at him, his name floated to the surface: Komamura, the Captain of Squad Eight. Tōsen’s... friend.

All of the energy drained out of her, she plunked herself down on the floor. Her hands sat in her lap.

Komamura stared at her, forehead wrinkling with bewilderment. “But you’re staying...”

They regarded each other through the dim light spilling from the hallway. He had bandages pressed tightly against his fur on his head and shoulders. The wounds from Aizen’s kidō. Ones he wouldn’t have received if she had acted sooner.

She bowed her head, hair falling into her face. On her wrist was the hair tie Abarai had given her. She discovered it on the nightstand when she woke up, and she had tied it on. Absentmindedly, she picked at the knot, undoing it slightly and then tightening it back up.

“You have every right to despise us. We accused you of killing Aizen, when all along it was...” Komamura--voice barely above a whisper--trailed off into a swallow. “Why did you and your friends invade the Seireitei? Was it because you knew Kuchiki was falsely imprisoned?”

His questions stole her attention, and she looked him directly in the eye. It was enough.

He closed his eyes in understanding and said, “Kaname and I always walked the same path, or so I believed. I knew he had no love for Central 46, but I believed him to be too far on the side of peace to support killing anyone.”

Tamiko glanced towards the hallway. Reiryoku flitted down the hallway, but disappeared into another room.

“I saw you,” Komamura whispered, and she looked back at him. “You walked straight to Aizen without any fear. He took something from you. What was it?”

Her hand went to her chest, expecting to find the hole that wasn’t there. She clutched it, pressing the knot against the scar.

Komamura’s eyes softened. He freed his arm from the blanket. She was surprised to see a human hand instead of a paw, though it was covered in fur. It reached out to her, and she leaned forward so he could brush it against her hair.

“Thank you, ryoka. For not running away. I hope that you have it in your heart to forgive us.”

When his eyes closed and breathing grew deeper, she returned the favor by tucking his hand back under the covers. In the quiet that followed, she remembered why she started wandering in the first place. To find someone.

So she left the room. The door quietly snapped shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything looked exactly the same. One empty corridor after another. The hospital was a maze, not unlike the streets outside. She didn’t know how long she had been walking, but the ache gripping her legs suggested hours.

Oh, well. At least she no longer feared for her life.

With every door she passed, she gauged the reiryoku of every person behind it. None of them was who she sought. Then she stopped at one. It was weak, but there was no mistaking the reiryoku behind it. Thunder rumbled overhead as she opened the door.

The light from the hallway draped over his face. Byakuya Kuchiki, who was once the biggest threat between them and Rukia, slept on his back, head angled towards the wall. While he lacked his usual coldness, he retained his regal air.

What was he doing there?

Tamiko stood in the doorway, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Lightning flashed through the window, revealing the bandages wrapped over it. The wounds he sustained from his battle with Ichigo.

Thunder boomed, shaking through the building. She stumbled into the center of the room, plummeting to her knees and squeezing her eyes shut. It only strengthened the scene that played out. Four Soul Reapers exploding into flames, the heat licking at her cheeks.

Her screams refused to come out. All she could do was heave with short, swallow breaths. She clamped her hands over her ears to keep from hearing their pained cries.

A pressure gripped her shoulders. Cherry blossoms overcame the scent of burning flesh. They pulled her back to the hospital room floor, where Kuchiki had joined her, his hands firmly on her shoulders.

“Come,” his voice, while soft, commanded in her ear. With an iron tight grip, he stood her up and steered her towards the left.

The room they were in was far larger than hers. It still contained a single bed, but held a sitting area with a large, ornate table, matching wardrobe, and cushions.

He lowered her down on one. “What are you doing here, Kimura?”

She stared at the table. It was out of place within the sterile environment. Carved, reddish wood that was polished to the point she could see herself in its surface.

Her face was painted like a kabuki actor, making her yukata look dingy in comparison. A mane of tangled brown hair tumbled onto her shoulders, and snot hung from one of her nostrils. It should be mortifying to be in such a position, yet she couldn’t care less.

An exasperated sigh left Kuchiki’s lips as he turned to the wardrobe. Upon opening it, a glimpse of his haori was revealed. He took out a blanket and draped it over her; he patted it down with a gentleness she hadn’t known he was capable of.

“Clean yourself,” he stated, thrusting a handkerchief at her.

There was no sense in fighting his out-of-character hospitality. Even in his injured state, he could easily overpower her with his reiatsu. She held the cloth against her face before blowing her nose.

The nurse who came in at Kuchiki’s behest started to question why she was there, but he cut her off, “I’d like for someone to bring up some tea with two cups. Kimura will rest a moment before being escorted back to her room.”

“Yes, captain.” She bowed and left the room.

About ten minutes later, Kuchiki was kneeling across from Tamiko. Two steaming cups stood between them.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” he remarked after regarding her a while. “I thought you of all people would have plenty to say to me.”

That made two of them. There were at least half a dozen questions floating in her head, but she couldn’t get a single word out of her mouth. She took to tapping her cup to watch the liquid ripple inside.

She felt him watching her closely. He took a couple of sips before continuing. “I was informed of what happened between you and Aizen. Yoruichi Shihōin herself told me everything.”

At the mention of Yoruichi, Tamiko lifted her gaze. That was who she was looking for. Was she here, but hiding her pressure? Her eyes swept the room. No one. She bent down to look under the table, hoping to find a pair of yellow eyes peering back at her.

“You aren’t going to find her here,” Kuchiki said, and she pushed herself up into a slouched position. “Her reappearance, among other things, has left us all baffled. I’m afraid she’ll be in out of meetings with the other captains for a while.” He brought the cup back to his lips.

Mouth bone dry, Tamiko lifted hers. Warmth spread through her as the tea slid down her scorched throat. It settled in her chest, but only for a moment. She chugged the rest, desperate to keep the feeling. But it all dropped heavily into her stomach, and she slumped down even further.

“Tea is _meant_ to be sipped. The World of the Living must lack proper teaching in etiquette, if that is how you consume it,” he chastised.

She leered at him from behind her bangs. Her arms pressed against her abdomen.

“So there she is. I had wondered where the Kimura I knew was.” He smirked as the expression transformed into a glare. “Since you’ve finished your tea, you may as well return to your room. A nurse should be waiting outside to take you.”

He set the cup down with a light clunk, and she noted the bandages. They were so tight on his chest that his collar bone protruded through them. Ichigo had managed to pierce him with his Zanpakutō. That battle may not have taken place had she realized the truth sooner. She could have at least tried to stop it.

Then again, Kuchiki had been an enemy from the beginning. Each time they fought, he had intended to kill Ichigo. There shouldn’t be any sense of guilt for his wounds. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.

Kuchiki expelled a short breath. “I suppose you don’t intend to leave until I’ve explained myself,” he murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I made two separate vows. One to my late wife. The other to my parents’ grave.”

Tamiko looked at him through her bangs, giving him a saddened expression instead of anger.

“Hisana was from Inuzuri, the 78th Rukon District. A commoner who had passed over from the World of the Living. I married her instead of a woman of noble birth.”

He had been married? It was hard to imagine him with eyes soft from affection rather than cold and piercing. With how soft they were now, she believed every word.

Those eyes were cast downward. “We only spent a short time together. Shortly after our fifth marriage anniversary, she succumbed to illness. Before she passed, she implored me to continue her search for the sister she had to leave behind.”

As his story halted, Tamiko wrapped the blanket around her middle. That explained how gentle he had been. An old caring gesture he had once done for an ailing wife.

She blinked, noticing the expectant look he was casting at her. One waiting for her to realize something. Her mind drifted back to his words. A dying love, imploring for him to search for something. The sister she left behind. Back in Rukon.

“I found her, one year later at Shin'ō Academy,” Kuchiki resumed, “a student from Inuzuri who bared a striking resemblance to Hisana. The DNA sample proved it, and I adopted her into the Kuchiki clan as my sister, fulfilling my wife’s last request.”

Rukia. She couldn’t have known the truth. Based on how Kuchiki had acted up to this point, it was no wonder she believed no one missed her.

Kuchiki broke into her thoughts, “Do you see, Kimura? I broke the law twice by mixing commoner blood with that of nobility. Members of my family objected to both of my actions. In order to keep the reputation of my clan, I swore to never break another law. No matter what, I would follow and defend them to the very end.”

Every action he had taken. Every word he had said. All in defense of the law rather than the sister he had promised to care for. Tamiko straightened and pushed aside her bangs to glare at him. To her surprise, he lowered his head in response.

“I deserve your ire. Rest assured, I have already apologized to Rukia. One day, I hope to earn her forgiveness.”

That word. She had never expected him to desire it, much less be sorry for anything he did. Also, she suspected he wasn’t used to requesting it.

Tamiko nodded to him and stood. Carefully, she folded and placed the blanket on the table, giving it a gentle pat. She swore she heard a soft hum from Kuchiki as she walked out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain that had started in the night hadn’t let up. Outside her window, the world was gray and dreary. No birds sang. Again, Tamiko freed herself from the IV tube and took to the hallway.

Since it was daytime, there were more people out and about, mainly other patients. They didn’t pay her much mind, too busy focusing on getting their muscles some exercise. Just as well. It was enough just to hear voices and see faces. Most of them looked somewhat familiar, but she had no care to place them.

Until she came across one she did care. His hair wasn’t in a top knot, though. It hung past his shoulders like hers did, but with bright green strands mingling with the brown. He leaned heavily against a pair of crutches.

It had been days since their fight. At least, she assumed, and he was still in the hospital. Tight bandages were wrapped not only on his legs, but his arms as well.

Her eyes swam with tears, and she hiccuped a sob. When he hobbled a step towards her, she turned and high tailed it the other way.

“Wait, ryoka girl. Come back!” Nagakura called out.

She didn’t stop, but picked up the pace into a full run. All the while, she kept her head bowed to prevent seeing another person she had wounded. Eventually, she had no choice but to stop.

In an empty corridor, she pressed her back against the wall. Her chest heaved, lungs bursting from the exertion. When she caught her breath, she realized she was completely lost again.

Did it even matter, though?

Voices leaked out from the door beside her, two of which were familiar. “The lieutenant of Squad Five remains in critical condition,” a young woman was saying. Her tone lacked the urgency from a couple of days ago.

“What of Captain Hitsugaya?” Unohana inquired.

“He woke up earlier this morning, and according to Lieutenant Sasakibe, he has already filed a report.”

“That’s correct,” an unknown man spoke. Tamiko caught a glimpse of his reiryoku--as daunting as a captain’s. “His lieutenant delivered it to me the moment I was seated at my desk. It details everything they saw and experienced within Central 46’s chambers.”

Her heart resumed pounding, even though her mind had yet to register what they were talking about.

There came the fluttering of paperwork being passed around, and the man--Sasakibe--continued, “According to it, the blood from the victims was still warm. It had occurred just moments before they arrived on the scene.”

 _It was the moment Central 46 had been murdered._ A tremor went through her legs, and Tamiko slowly sank to the floor.

“I see,” Unohana said solemnly. “Isane, have those autopsy reports been finalized yet?”

“Unfortunately, they haven’t. Not everyone has been thoroughly examined. However...” Kotetsu trailed off, her voice bearing hints of confusion.

“What is it?”

“There’s... a contradiction. Between Captain Hitsugaya’s report and the members that have been examined already.”

A brief pause passed before Sasakibe asked, “Are you saying that the captain lied in his report?”

“I’m not sure.”

Unohana’s pressure moved forward, closer to Kotetsu’s. “Please, Isane,” she said softly, “explain the contradiction.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” Kotetsu took a breath, and in her official tone stated, “The completed autopsies show the cause of death were multiple slash wounds inflicted by Zanpakutō. All of them are nearly three months old.”

It grew so quiet that one could hear a feather hit the floor. Three months? Tamiko prodded at her mind for what month it was. They had left the World of the Living in August, but didn’t they go back in time?

Her brows furrowed together. It had to be August. She held up a finger with each month she recalled, ‘July, June, May.’

 _May._ The month Rukia arrived and gave Ichigo her powers. The month Machiko died. The month the Hōgyoku was...

Tamiko hugged her arms to her chest. It wouldn’t have mattered. If she had given herself up to Aizen, the members of Central 46 had already been dead. The hospital’s floor and ceiling melded together.

So if she couldn’t have prevented their slaughter, what did that mean for everything else?

Nothing. It meant absolutely nothing! Like everything else that’s happened. Her father’s coma. Machiko’s death. Uryū’s lost powers. The injuries of her friends. She had been completely powerless to stop any of it.

And she laughed from the euphoria filling her chest. She laughed until her stomach ached so much she couldn’t draw a breath. All too quickly, it was gone.

There was nothing left. Just an empty shell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Down to the wire, folks! Next chapter is the second to last. Hard to believe we're so close to the end of this first part.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any tips or suggestions on how to further improve things, please let me know in the comments. I am also open for discussing theories related to Bleach. That is always a big help, as I am still understanding everything about the world and its characters.


End file.
